


Down Where the Devil Delights

by findango (infinitys_smile)



Category: Charlie's Angels (2019)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sex, F/M, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Sort Of, bad guy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitys_smile/pseuds/findango
Summary: Reader/Hodak fic. Reader is an Angel with the Townsend Agency who has a chance encounter with Hodak on a solo mission that leads to more than the Reader bargained for. There's tension and intrigue, dancing and fighting,  the growth that comes with figuring out where you belong, but most importantly there's Hodak being his sexy, deadly self and a hearty amount of smut sprinkled throughout.
Relationships: hodak/reader
Comments: 50
Kudos: 173





	1. Devil's Delight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't written smut in a very long time so forgive me if I'm rusty. I absolutely adored the new Charlie's Angel movie and could not get Hodak off my mind so this happened. Enjoy!

Working as an Angel for the Townsend Agency, you’d always enjoyed the big shindig operations. Bosley had been given information that this fundraising gala was being used as a cover for a number of under-the-table black market deals between the criminal elite. It wasn’t your job to stop all of them, more to surveil and record the transactions and place tracking devices where applicable. The intel from tomorrow’s mission would provide more than enough for you to investigate further over the next couple of months.

Most of the deals that would be taking place were low level and not time-sensitive save for two. Your number one priority was to find the location of a suitcase nuke that was being sold off tomorrow and steal it or, barring that, disarm it. If it was being held with other goods on sale tomorrow then more’s the better but you couldn’t let the armed nuclear weapon leave this hotel without disarming it.

Bosley also had tasked you with identifying the new spokesperson for a particular drug cartel and make introductions with him for a later operation. It was all fairly standard and nothing more difficult than you’d undertaken before. Bosley had offered to call in backup but you’d shrugged it off. You worked better alone and this was certainly nothing you couldn’t handle.

Your fellow angels were the best of the best and all highly trained and qualified. You could relate to them more than anyone else and you certainly felt a connection but you’d always thought that surrounding yourself with other people just increased the opportunities to get hurt. You knew in your gut that they would always have your back but you felt you were more efficient without them. It wasn’t that you thought they would slow you down, more that you’d seen enough missions become compromised out of concern for one another. It was easier to just take them out of the equation.

You had lost fellow angels before and didn’t want to put yourself in that position again. Teams weren’t required for all jobs and the Townsend agency certainly would never force one on you but you knew you were an oddity among the agency that had always fostered a sense of unity. You just preferred to stay on the move. If you didn’t get attached to anyone you couldn’t get hurt. 

The same also applied to your personal life. Your travels and missions meant you were always moving from one city or country to the next. You’d had a string of lovers and one night stands all over the globe but never anything more or serious. You had a few habitual lovers scattered around the world but no relationships or exes to speak of. It was better that way. Better that you were free and unattached. You were more productive that way. The only person you had regular contact with was Bosley, but as he was the original he oversaw several other Angels and he had also always respected your boundaries and privacy. For this mission, Bosley would be waiting for you at the safe house two days from now and only a comm-link away if you ran into trouble.

You’d arrived at the hotel the night before to get the lay of the land and set up your surveillance and tap into the hotel’s security feed. The gala was set for tomorrow night and most of the major players wouldn’t even arrive until the morning but you preferred to be prepared. It was also easier to set things up with fewer people poking around. Most of the influential criminals liked to come with their own security and you knew you’d never be able to set up and hide your devices with so many armed thugs snooping around.

You were striking and distracting when you wanted to be but with the right outfit and demeanor you had perfected the art of blending in. You’d tapped into their security feed and even set up your own. You clocked the guards' rotations and made mental notes of traffic patterns so you could plan the best escape routes. Most of this was window dressing and more just back up for the actual plan you and Bosley had already laid out.

After everything was set and you’d finished surreptitiously surveying the common areas of the hotel a handful of times, you made your way to the hotel bar. Despite your rounds, you felt restless as you often did before an op. There was just this build-up of energy that you knew wouldn’t dissipate until the job was over but you had your methods of alleviating the worst of the tension.

You’d kept your hair up and your outfit plain while getting the lay of the land but a quick stop to your room changed all that. Your skirt was long enough for your liking but short enough to catch eyes. You had let your hair curtain down one side to better show off your exposed shoulder in your one strapped black dress.

When you set the bait like this you never lacked for offers from any number of interested parties but you had to weed out those that would not suit your needs. Anyone who sought to possess you or win you as a prize was out. Anyone who didn’t look like they’d know what to do was also out of the running. You wanted someone who’d give you a good time and not expect anything else from you. In the mood you were in, you needed a workout and someone who would know how to scratch that particular itch.

You’d mostly spent the last hour or so coyly but firmly detaching yourself from all the undesirable offers. The night was still young and this was a location that was only going to get more populated. The hotel bar patrons were all more or less the same- douchebros trying to prove themselves by creeping on every woman, not with a man, gaggles of girls tipsy and giggling, and couples in various stages of dating. Nobody had really tempted you until the man with the tattoos walked in.

He had a different air to him entirely. He was composed and focused and moved in a way that could lend itself to invisibility. From where you sat at the end of the bar you watched as he moved smoothly through the crowd like a shark through water. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was about him that fascinated you so much. If it weren’t for the tattoos peeking out from beneath his collar, he might have been nondescript.

As he made his way to the bar, he moved with a precision and focus that captivated you. He looked like a man who would know how to handle you. He might just be what you were looking for.

He had stopped at the other end of the bar from you and was waiting for the bartender as you watched him. He stilled then, almost as if he'd felt your eyes on him and turned his gaze to meet yours. If you were someone else you might have been ashamed to have been caught staring but you were you so you held his stare. As his green eyes bored into yours, you slowly reached for your drink without breaking eye contact, you licked your lips and took a pull as he studied you.

Just then the bartender stepped up to the captivating man and without lifting his gaze from you, placed his order. You looked away from the weight of his stare and took the opportunity to take a longer draught of your drink to calm yourself. 

You had a fish in your net alright, but there was something different about him to anyone else you’d encountered, he was a shark among shrimp compared to the rest of the bar’s patrons. You had a moment where you wondered if you might be biting off more than you can chew but you weren’t about to turn back now.

You could feel him approaching you but you made a show of intentionally not looking at him as you put your drink down and adjusted your position only to look up as he audibly placed his glass on the bar beside you. He was staring you down and you felt a shiver of excitement. He was a very intimidating presence but you found yourself undeniably attracted to his particular brand of intensity.

There was a sharp intelligence in his eyes that was also very attractive. This man was certainly never going to ask what your sign was or ask if you were from Tennessee. He’d never waste your time with idle chatter but if you were very lucky, you two would hardly talk at all and he might find more useful things to do with his mouth.

“You got a name?” you asked as you openly looked him up and down, taking in his crisp vest over a black button-up shirt. You noticed more tattoos on the backs of both hands blossoming from beneath the sleeves.

He quirked an eyebrow as if amused by the question like he found it to be inconsequential, but he said “Hodak.” then added on, almost like an afterthought, “You?”

Hodak was certainly an unusual enough name that it could have been his first or last, which intrigued you. But he was right, it didn’t matter, you just liked to know what name to curse or thank if it was good sex.

“Y/N,” you answered.

“Y/N” he repeated and raised his drink in a mock salute before bringing it to his lips as you did the same.

-

You’d been right. He was a man of few words and it soon became clear that both of you had the same idea in mind and with a crisp bill placed on the counter for your drinks, you were both leaving the bar and heading to the elevator.

Once inside he positioned himself by the floor buttons and turned to you with an eyebrow raised, “What floor is your room on?”

“What floor is yours?” you countered.

Considering you’d planned this kind of rendezvous when you’d left your room, you’d secured all your Townsend tech and gear but this was a game of who had the upper hand and you weren’t willing to concede to him.

He gave you a bemused expression as if you had just become more interesting before he hit the button for floor 13. You were trapped in his gaze but your training had heightened your ability to see in your periphery and, as you continued your staring contest, you could see a man in a suit approaching the elevator.

“Hold the elevator!” the man called imperiously.

In any other situation you might have put out a hand to stop the doors but you were frozen in place, arousal pooling within you at being the sole focus of Hodak's attention.

For his part, your staring partner started to reach out and for a split second, you thought he might try to hold the doors but instead he hit the Door Close button and they slid closed just before the man in the suit could reach out and stop it.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, intrigued and not complaining.

“So that I could do this,” he said matter-of-factly and suddenly he had closed the distance between you, his tattooed hands coming up to run through your hair. He tugged slightly, your head following the motion and pulling to one side and then his lips were on your neck and you couldn’t help the moan that left you.

You brought your hands up to his neck as well, half pulling him in lest he think of stopping. Very aware of the fact that you were in a public elevator and the doors could open any second, you didn’t allow yourself to be completely swept away or close your eyes as he kissed your neck and found your pulse point. Instead, you traced your thumb along the edges of the vibrant tattoo on his neck in front of you. You couldn’t quite make out what the design was- there were abstract swirls and flashes of red but needless to say you weren’t exactly devoting all your attention to it. Your other hand arced down his neck to hold onto his bicep.

One of his hands remained wrapped in your hair when the other came down to caress your bare shoulder. You saw a tattoo of a compass on the back of his hand. You wondered at the significance but were soon distracted from such wondering when his hand continued trailing down down your arm and then slid from your fingers to your thigh. He began pulling at the material of your skirt ever so slightly. Your eyes, slightly lidded before jolted open as his fingers found the skin of your thigh.

His other hand still in your hair felt you start and he paused just slightly in his motions and you could just see him watching you out of the corner of his eye as if daring you to stop him. Maybe the reasonable and discreet part of your brain was suggesting you hold off until you got to his room but a stronger part of you felt a thrill at the idea of discovery. He was already doing such sinful things with his mouth you were dying to see what he might do with his fingers.

You gave an experimental tug to his hair and he took that as assent and resumed his attentions to your neck as his hand crept higher up your bare thigh.

Then, just as his hand was about to reach the edge of your underwear the elevator dinged and there was just enough time to pull apart before the doors opened and your neck felt cold from the lack of his hot mouth on you. His right hand had let go of your hair and his left hand had dropped out from beneath your skirt but continued to ghost ever so slightly at your thigh by the hem of your dress.

You didn’t even want to think about how you looked but happily, there wasn’t anyone waiting for the elevator. He strode into the hallway without looking back to see if you were following. You both knew there was no chance of stopping now. He walked with that same smooth efficiency that was honestly such a turn on. There was something deeply attractive about a man who knows what he wants.

As you caught up with him, you contemplated feeling up his ass but you had a feeling that once you got your hands on him you wouldn’t be able to stop and getting caught fucking in the hotel hallway might put a hitch on your operation tomorrow. Happily, you didn’t have long to go before you arrived at his room.

Wasting no time, he already had his key out and opened the door in one fluid motion. You passed him as he held the door and entered his dark room. You had only just stepped in when the lights turned on and you heard him close and lock the door behind you. You made to turn and face him only to feel his hand around your wrist as he tugged you to him and unceremoniously shoved you against the door.

Right to the chase then, just like you liked it. The door was hard against your back but you could hardly focus on that as he captured your mouth for the first time. His lips were crushing but you drove right back, before taking his bottom lip between your teeth just as your hands came up to grip his collar and bring him even closer. You were quick to slip out of your shoes, kicking them out of the way.

One of his hands meanwhile was back on your bare shoulder and you sent a silent thank you to Bosley for stocking this dress in the Townsend closet. Thoughts of Bosley were swiftly driven from your head as his hand moved between you to firmly cup your breast.

You pulled back ever so slightly with a gasp as he found your nipple through the fabric of your dress and pinched. He then gave you a downright devilish smirk at your response and pinched again before pulling you back to him with his other hand to reclaim your mouth. His tongue pushed against your lips which you then opened almost on instinct. As his tongue proceeded to plunder your mouth, his hand then made the best use of your one-shouldered dress as he found the zipper on your side and slowly inched it down enough to reveal your strapless bra. He then returned his hand to fondle your breast through the silky black material.

He wasn’t done though and soon was sliding his expert fingers to your back and beneath the material of your dress and quickly undid the bra’s clasp. He tugged at the offending garment and pulled it out from underneath your dress in one fluid motion and flung it away.

His hand returned to massage your now exposed breast. His tongue then disentangled itself from yours as his mouth trailed a line of kisses down from your lips to your throat before he took your taut nipple in his mouth. You became acutely acquainted with how correct you were in your earlier assessment that he could do more useful things with his mouth than hold a conversation. Who needed small talk when he could do this?

One of his hands gripped your shoulder, pushing you further against the door while his other hand now slid beneath your dress to tease your other nipple. You used your free hand to hold onto his neck in encouragement.

Another moan escaped you as he tweaked one nipple at the same time he scraped his teeth against the other. The look he gave you was like that of a cat that caught the canary: predatory and satisfactory all at once.

Too soon for your liking, his mouth left off their ministrations as he reclaimed your lips with his. You wasted no time and proceeded to grab hold of his vest and begin slipping it off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it without breaking contact. Your hands were quick to tackle the buttons of his black button-up, working your way down.

As his shirt opened you caught sight of even more tattoos, and you were quick to smooth your hands across his upper chest where rose tattoos bloomed across his shoulder blades. You eased your hands under his open shirt and eased it off, taking pleasure in running your hands across his toned shoulders. Hodak helped you pull the shirt sleeves off his hands and drop it on the floor.

You ran your hands down his arms revealing more tattoos as you went.. He was deceptively built. You’d had a suspicion that he was muscled but you were more than confirmed in your suspicions. He had a subtle and understated power to his movements and you were practically buzzing with anticipation for what was to come.

You didn’t bother holding back your wandering hands, reveling in running your hands down his back and mapping his planes with your fingertips. His own hands continued his exploration as he continued what he’d started in the elevator, as he found the hem of your dress and eased it up, grazing your thigh with his thumb as he went. When it was high enough he traced his fingertips along the waistband of your underwear. You grabbed onto his shoulders, not to stop him but because you had a feeling you were going to need something to hold onto.

He had that satisfied grin again as he seemed to take a unique pleasure in teasing around the edges of your panties before cupping your sex through the thin layer. You were already wet and you could tell he felt it when he looked up at you from his progress with a smug look on his face.

Another man might have taunted you for it, but words were superfluous to Hodak and he used them sparingly, his actions saying more than enough. Besides, any words would have been wasted on you at that moment.

You traced one of your hands from his shoulder up to his neck to pull him closer and capture his lips with your own. There was no art to this kiss but you were fine with that, you’d prefer to leave the art to him and his hands.

He rubbed your clit through your underwear and you moaned against his mouth loudly. You felt him smirk against yours. He didn’t stop there though. Hodak’s fingers continued their careful probing and the slow careful motions caused a coil of tension to build in your center.

Half of you wanted to tell him to just get on with it already but the other half wanted to see just how far he could take you. You had the feeling that he had gotten this down to a science and was a particular expert in this field. You were not wrong. He traced against the edge of the fabric, lightly brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He then, ever so slowly eased his fingers underneath the material, one hand exploring before the other hand came down to shove your wet underwear to the side to give him better access.

He stopped his assault against your mouth and you took the much-needed chance to catch your breath. He had no such need, however, and moved back to suck on your neck. It seemed to be a favorite spot of his and he would receive no complaints from you about it.

He teased down the length of your slit, his finger accumulating juices as he went before inserting a single digit. You couldn’t help but clench ever so slightly at the feeling. He extended deeper in reply, before adding a second finger. There was nothing tentative in his motions. From the minute you laid eyes on him you’d seen him exude the air of a man on a mission and you were ever so gratified to learn the same applied to his sexual skills.

His fingers began to thrust into your core, curling ever so slightly at the end. He started slow and strong, his other hand returning to massage the breast not obscured by the dress that still hung off one shoulder. Steadily, he started increasing the speed, his motions pushing you into the door in time with his fingers, your hand on his shoulder gripping tightly. You didn’t know what you would do if he stopped his rhythm but you were half clutching him lest he think of leaving the job undone.

Happily, he showed no signs of stopping as his thumb edged up to begin rubbing against your clit. You moaned loudly, letting your eyes fully close to take in every sinful thing he was doing to you. You could feel a wave of pleasure building in your core. He increased his attentions to your clitoris as his fingers sped up. He seemed to only grow more and more insistent the louder you got and as you got closer to the edge. Your breaths grew more labored as you leaned your head against the door at the feeling building within you.

He inserted a third finger as his other hand came down to give it’s full attention to your clit. The focus of a whole hand on your tender bundle of nerves and the added pressure within your cunt proved to be the final straw that pushed you over the edge. You let out a loud cry as your walls clenched around his still moving fingers.

You immediately felt boneless and most certainly would have slid down to the floor if one of his hands just then moved up to hold you firmly by the hip. Your grip on his arms grew slack as you fought to keep your feet and remember your name in the wake of your orgasm.

Seeming very pleased with himself, he extracted his fingers from within you and your now useless underwear fell back into place. Your dress, which was more or less hanging off your arm now, slid back down your hips. He smirked at you as he brought his hand, now dripping with your juices up to his mouth to lick and suck them all while maintaining eye contact.

You dimly noted there was a clock tattooed on the back of this hand and caught a flash of words inked on the back of his fingers but seeing as you barely had enough brainpower to remain upright you lacked the mental energy to decipher the stylized letters. You caught a glimpse of an “E” before your eyes were drawn back to meet the full strength of his green stare. 

And to think he’d done that with just his hands without the two of you even having taken off all of your clothes. You felt another throb go through your pussy and your knees threatened to buckle as you thought of what he might accomplish if he utilized all of the weapons in his arsenal.

While you struggled to keep upright, Hodak wasn’t done with his very capable hands. He simultaneously unzipped your dress the rest of the way and eased the one strap of your dress off of your shoulder before letting it pool at your feet. And just like that, you were left leaning against the door in nothing but your soaked underwear.

He ran his hands down your bare sides before helping you step out of your dress and kicking it out of the way. Slowly regaining your strength you ran your hands down his chest to find his belt. You used it to pull him closer before unbuckling it and attacking his button and zipper. Then his pants were on the ground and his hands were on your ass.

Before you knew it he was lifting you off the ground, his hands curling down to grab onto the backs of your thighs and pulled you up to straddle his waist. You quickly shifted your legs to follow his directions and wrapped them around his waist. Though you both still had your underwear on, there was no ignoring or escaping the bulge pressing through the layers between you against your already sensitive clitoris. 

Before you could adjust to this new position, he began carrying you in the direction of the bedroom. Wrapped in his tight embrace, utterly supported by his strong arms, you took the opportunity to repay the favors he’d paid you and turned your attention to his neck. When your teeth lightly scraped near his pulse point you earned your first groan of pleasure from him. It was low and full of need and went straight to your crotch sending waves of arousal through you once more. You nipped lightly at the spot and received another moan in reply.

But before you could redouble your efforts, he’d stopped walking and his hands moved from where they supported you to squeeze your ass through your panties. You pulled back slightly to gasp in appreciation. You caught the barest glimpse of a hungry smile from him and then his hands were on your back leaning you towards the bed. He let go when you were just a couple inches from the surface of the mattress allowing you to bounce pleasantly as you landed. Then he was standing above you at the foot of the bed. You scooted back ever so slightly to center yourself more squarely on the bed. Lest he think you were moving away from him, you opened your legs slowly to reveal the large wet spot on your rumpled underwear.

That was all the invitation he needed and he was leaning forward and pressing further into the wet spot. You rewarded him with another moan and his already blown pupils seemed to flare wider. He looked utterly predatory as his knees eased onto the bed in front of you, his talented fingers now finding the waistband of your underwear and pulling it down.

You obliged him by closing your legs just enough to ease the passage of the last of your clothes and then he was standing again as he pulled your panties off your feet and made quick work of his boxers. You had just enough time to take in the sight of his erection before he was on top of you.

One hand came down to rest beside your head to support his weight as he hovered above you. His intense green eyes bored into you in a way that sent a shiver of anticipation through you and had you ever so slightly clenching your thighs to help alleviate the need pulsing in your cunt. He felt the motion and quirked an eyebrow at you before you felt one hand on your thigh pushing it down against the bed so you’d be completely open to him. You moved your other leg down to mirror the other and you were rewarded with a pleased but still feral smile.

That was the thing about him that captivated you the most. On the surface he was composed and precise- each move was calculated for maximum effectiveness but then you looked in his eyes and saw a feral predator capable of destruction and wild fury if he let his control slip. If you were an Angel, he was the Devil and he used his power how he saw fit. The thought both scared and aroused you all at once.

Before you could make another coherent thought you felt his tip graze your entrance and his hand brushed your folds as he lined himself up and then he was inside you with a single driving thrust. You gasped at the feeling of him filling you up and nearly missed the sound of a quiet grunt from him. 

As he had been quiet for most of the night, the sound awakened something within you. You wanted to hear more. To that end, you clenched around him ever so slightly eliciting a grumble from deep within his chest and an almost smirk. He responded by pulling out swiftly and then driving back into you to the hilt earning a deeper moan from you at the sudden give and take of pressure. He smiled a satisfied grin in reply. So that’s how it was going to be? That was just fine with you.

As he pulled back again you hooked your ankles around his waist again, lifting your hips up to meet his and pulling him closer to bury himself in you again. This time he groaned and you waggled your eyebrows at him as if to say “two could play at that game”. The look he gave you in reply almost seemed to say “be careful what you wish for” and then it was on.

There was nothing tentative in his movements as he began to pound into you. His strokes were hard and fast but you could still see that measure of focus in the set of his jaw and the small part of you not occupied with having your brains fucked out of you, wondered what it might look like to see him completely relinquish control. But, considering his current stamina, you were doubtful if this was the night for that. As things currently stood, you were getting much more than you’d hoped you might get this evening and were perfectly happy letting him have his wicked way with you.

You weren’t going down without a fight though and met his thrusts with your hips, giving as good as you got as your other hand came up to hold onto his back, scratching lightly against his skin in such a way as to earn you another groan from him. Your hand kept it up for another minute or so as you felt the waves of pleasure building within you again.

His hips met yours faster and faster and as your orgasm reached closer, it was harder to control the motions of your own, your thrusting became less controlled and more erratic. As he sensed this, you saw his eyes squint ever so slightly like a hunter scenting prey. And then his hand was on your clit, working your sensitive nub to a frenzy in time with his sharp thrusts. And that’s all it took for you to crest the wave of your orgasm. You legs unhooked from behind him as you spasmed into the bed beneath him with a sharp cry.

He wasn’t done, however. You may have been boneless without any strength left in your limbs but he still had plenty left for both of you and had yet to reach his own climax.

He grabbed hold of both of your wrists, moving them above your head. He used one hand to hold them there while the other hand returned to your overstimulated clit. You mewled at the sensation so soon after your last orgasm but he ignored it, or perhaps more accurately, sped up, and disregarded the weak protest. You barely had enough energy left in your hands but you weakly tried to free them to end the onslaught so you could recover.

There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as shifted the angle of his thrusting, finding your g-spot. You cried out again and he did it again and again, grinding slightly at the end of each movement. You couldn’t help the noises you made, almost cursing him for playing so dirty. You may be losing this particular battle of wills but if this is what losing felt like, you weren’t sure you could handle winning against him. Not that he was giving you much of a choice.

Then you felt his fingers on your clit lose just the slightest edge of their precision and his breathing began to get heavy. He was still keeping up his brutal pace but perhaps just a little less controlled. Though you could feel another orgasm building within you, you were determined to make him shout like you had. You then began rolling your hips to meet him again, clenching your walls ever so slightly as you did. He grunted in response, proof his control was slipping. Despite your own gasping as he effectively fucked you into the mattress, you grinned.

He continued rubbing circles onto your sensitive mound as if determined that he should wrest another orgasm from you before he fell over the edge himself. You resisted though, trying to hold it back as long as possible until with a final burying plunge, he let out a wordless shout just seconds before you cried out again. He pulled out just in time to release his load on your stomach before rolling over to collapse on the bed beside you.

Barely able to breathe, you turned your head slightly to regard him. You’d had a feeling he was good when you first saw him in the bar but had had no idea he was capable of that. All of the tension you’d felt building up in anticipation of the job tomorrow had dissipated. Now you only need to worry about keeping filthy thoughts from tonight out of your mind. You stared back up at the ceiling, yeah, you could handle that. And with that, your eyes fluttered shut, you were utterly spent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a couple of ideas to continue this, even thinking of throwing in some more plot with the smut. Let me know if anyone would be interested in a continuation! thanks for reading!


	2. Dance of Deception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank all of you so much for your feedback. I started this fic because I needed more Hodak but didn't think anyone else would read it or care. It has meant so much to me to have other people actually reading it and commenting. and, more specifically, it's meant I was inspired to write more. So this one goes out to y'all. It's decidedly more plotty this time around but hopefully you all like it!

You woke not long after that and prepared to return to your room on the 6th floor. Hodak had stayed in bed when you got up, choosing to openly watch you as you went around the suite trying to find all of your clothes. Despite your many one-night stands over the years, you’d never really figured out the correct exit protocol for these things.

Sometimes you’d just leave while they slept, and sometimes they left while you dozed. Other times they might suggest another go which you’d accept or decline depending on how the first round went. The most awkward times were when you’d be getting dressed and they’d start asking you questions about your life or work or ask you out to coffee or dinner. 

Hodak did none of these things, eventually getting up and putting his boxers on and going over pouring himself a drink from the minibar. Neither of you spoke.

Soon enough you were zipping your dress back, on, checking that your room key was still in your pocket- it was. All that was left was your shoes and you still didn’t know what to say. Thank you? Gee, that was some mind-blowing sex? I’m an international spy who would be very interested in banging you in the future if we ever ended up in the same city again, that good for you?

But of course, you couldn’t say any of those things so you figured you'd just make your exit and put the ball in his court if he wanted to acknowledge it or not.

As you pulled your heels back on, he still had his back turned. You walked to the door and then stole a last glance at his bare back, taking in the tattoos swirling across his shoulder blades. You wanted to study him, to learn more about this mysterious stranger but you knew that’s not what this thing between you was. He intrigued you more than nearly anyone else you’d ever met like this but he was also more closed off and secretive than the others, offering nothing else. This would just have to be enough, this ridiculously satisfying night and that was it. You turned back and reached for the handle.

“Be seeing you,” You heard from behind you and you nearly let out a sigh in almost relief. You allowed yourself the smallest of smiles before turning back around. You certainly would enjoy an encore and you just had this feeling with the single-mindedness he exuded he could certainly find you again somewhere someday.

“Until then,” was all you replied with a last look back at him standing in the doorway to the bedroom still in just his boxers and a glass of bourbon in his hand. You caught a final smug expression before you were out the door.

You thought of all the implications of his final statement as you made your way down to your floor and into your room. You fell asleep soon after with visions of roses blooming to life across his skin. Hodak’s devilish grin taunting you from the dark as you both tried to catch him while also eluding his pursuit through deep dark passages underground. 

\--

The next day you called Bosley and you both went over the plan again. Your tension and anticipation for the mission had returned. As much as you wanted to return to Hodak’s room and try to work it back out again, you knew that wasn’t an option. Bosley helped you stay on task. His soothing English accent reminding you of stability and confidence. Listening to him map key details out brought back the routine of it all and that stabilized you. 

The cartel spokesperson and the suitcase nuke were still priority but he’d just received word that a canister of sarin gas would be going on sale tonight. As sarin was the quickest acting and most deadly of the nerve agents, this officially had bumped up your list of objectives. Bosley didn’t care as much if you disabled or stole it, as long as it didn’t find its way into the wrong hands.

Bosley could tell you were a bit off, maybe a touch more distracted than usual but he also knew you and that you’d get the mission done. As he was the Bosley who found you, this wasn’t his first mission with you by a long shot and he knew your habits and tendencies. You appreciated that about him. He always knew just how much you were worth and gave you freedom to bend or break rules or protocol as needed while having your back with mission debriefs and the paperwork the Townsend Agency required.

You weren’t exactly a perfect or model angel but he never made you feel bad about that or try to make you one. So he just reminded you he’d be standing by on comms if you needed him and believed that you’d pull off this assignment as you had every mission assigned to you before then. 

The rest of the day you spent on your improvements to your surveillance system and verifying the rooms, teams, and schedules of the various key players tonight. Since there were plenty of honorable and upstanding attendees of the gala tonight, it was best to do what you could to zero in on the more nefarious guests. Unfortunately, a few of the high-value targets tonight were beyond paranoid and as such kept up a constant rotation of emissaries and underlings as well as security chiefs and bodyguards so getting the true scope and profile of their entire entourage was nearly impossible. Most of the time though you were pretty good at figuring it out on your own and you’d learned to trust your gut.

You’d also located the hotel’s main VIP high-security vault that you knew at least a handful of tonight’s merchandise would be stored in. The security measures were certainly nothing to sneeze at. You needed biometrics, fingerprints, as well as a code that changed several times a day and of course the keycard. There were ways around a couple of the measures but it would be a very difficult puzzle to crack all on your own.

You were going to be posing as a member of the waitstaff for the first few steps of your bugging and tracing and surveilling at the fundraiser. From there you would transform into a guest but could go back and forth as needed.

You liked having things planned out. It made it easier for you to just really get into your own groove and focus on what was most important and your results certainly spoke for themselves.

\---

The gala had been in full swing for an hour but some of your targets were only just now making their way in. Being fashionably late proved to be a trend in all social circles. You’d planted bugs on a great variety of people with no detection but you were still waiting on the cartel’s spokesperson to arrive and were still attempting to identify the intermediary in charge of the sale of the suitcase nuke.

New sleazebags were rolling in all the time though and you made the switch to your eye-catching red dress with the halter neck, with a window to show a peak of cleavage paired with an exposed back and the slit up the long skirt. The dress was a very effective tool, everyone was always so busy staring at your boobs and legs they didn’t pay enough attention to your face to notice you were the same person as the waitress from five minutes before but without a colored wig this time.

A new group had wandered in through your periphery but you focused on your small talk with another member of theSerbian cartel. The new group had walked up beside yours and it was finally one you were hoping for as the lackey you were schmoozing introduced you. One of these men must be the intermediary. You turned, affecting the perfect simple smile of the brainless fawning socialite. As you turned around though you had to struggle to keep the expression frozen because there, among the others was Hodak, his green gaze fixed on you with a hint of amusement and curiosity. You took a sip of your drink.

This was fine. You two didn’t exactly exchange any personal information last night so it’s not like your cover was blown or anything. This would just  _ slightly _ complicate things. If nothing else, it put a slight damper on possible reprisals of last night’s work out if Hodak was aligned with the cartel. But then again, here you were talking with them so maybe things weren’t as cut and dry as they seemed.

It turned out that the man to Hodak’s left was the new spokesperson, not that they told you that, but you’d gotten very skilled at reading between the lines. You had no idea what Hodak’s relation to the others was or his place in the hierarchy. He didn’t speak at all, simply letting others take charge and giving them various bored expressions and you an occasional eyebrow raise.

It was both distracting and amusing at once. It felt like the two of you were in on a private joke and you enjoyed that but damn if this wasn’t the worst timing. Then, just as you were beginning to set things up for your future operation with the spokesperson, Hodak leaned into the man, said something quietly into his ear and just like that, the spokesperson was making his excuses and was extracting himself from your gathering, Hodak in tow.

You stared, exasperated and confused at the man’s retreating back, feeling uncomfortably frustrated at this turn of events. Just then Hodak turned around to meet your eyes and gave a mischievous wink. What a cheeky move. You were probably wrong but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had stymied you on purpose.

You downed another glass of champagne and did your best to put that from your mind and move on. You introduced yourself to other contacts and set up half a dozen future operations as you went with no one the wiser. Occasionally you could feel eyes on the back of your neck and knew it was Hodak but you didn’t look. You were in the zone and finally all of your flirting and schmoozing paid off and you got a bead on who would be selling the nuke. These types of gatherings had established code phrases to represent certain merchandise and your interest in it. Those not in the know would have no idea, but those in on the sale would be able to recognize and sometimes steer you to the right person.

And there the seller was: he was a taller man, slender with gray hair and black-framed glasses, just on the other side of the dance floor. You began making your way when a familiar form stepped in front of you with his now-signature smirk. When Hodak had been with the others, he mostly kept his face blank but he always said so much with just his eyes. Or maybe you had just figured out how to read him. You quirked an eyebrow at him and then made to step around him but then he stepped right back into your path.

He was toying with you and you knew it. You had no idea what his game was tonight. Last night had been easy enough because you were both on the same court but, after seeing him roll up with the Serbian cartel, you couldn’t be sure what he was playing at. If you were wise you would simply turn away from him and then make your way to the seller, but something about Hodak had you captivated and you couldn’t help but want to know more.

So when he tilted his head to the dance floor and extended a hand, you took it and followed as he led. It was a slower but still a more technical dance then the standard waltz and considering he’d shown a particular flair for precision last night, you were curious to see how he might perform in this arena.

The more business-oriented side of you also pointed out that you could use the dance as a chance to do reconnaissance on him subvertly. If it was anyone else, you might have hoped to question him and ease out some answers in a subtle way but if there was nothing else you’d learned about him it was that he would not be as easily swayed by conversation. Action was everything to him.

Every time you thought of a question to ask, you could just see him smirking and not answering. Not that you didn’t have a million things you could ask but you knew there was no point. So instead, as you turned and pivoted and stepped in time with him, you let your hands roam and he returned the favor. You didn’t feel any of the usual subjects in the usual places but at the same time, it felt like every time you would come close to another likely spot, his own hands would take yours and try to distract you with a turn or a twist. He was definitely hiding something and from the look in his eyes, he knew you knew. And then his hands would slide over your bare back in kind. Of course, most of your gear was stashed under a serving table and in a nearby stairwell but you still had a trick or two in your bra and strapped to your thigh. And he, clever as he was, also took note of the way you would try to divert him from these places.

Despite the subterfuge and secrets, you couldn’t help the thrill you felt burning within you as you felt his hands on your arms and brushing down the leg exposed by the dress’s slit as you brought your knee up and moved in time together. Oh, you were getting hot and bothered for sure and he knew it. But, if the growing tightness of his pants was any indication, you weren’t the only one.

And then the song was over and you were trying hard to keep your breathing even after the exertion and being the sole focus of the blazing heat in his eyes wasn’t helping matters. You stood, holding each other another couple of seconds before he let you go and gave you a nod of his head and said, “Be seeing you.”

“Until then,” you replied again, still trying to get a grip on exactly what just happened between the two of you. 

The moment he walked into the bar last night, he’d had an air of danger to him but you were only just now beginning to have an inkling of just how dangerous he truly was. He wasn’t like anyone else you had ever met but you still weren’t sure what that meant or what he was up to. Knowing your track record, probably no good. Why did you always have to fall for the bad boys?

You took another champagne flute as a waiter passed with a tray of them and took a quick drink before shaking your head and returning to the task at hand: the weapons dealer. You turned around to look for the gray-haired man in the crowd. There he was. You made to walk to him when you noticed an odd expression on the man’s face. You paused. And then he swayed on his feet and fell to the ground. A woman screamed and then there was chaos. You fought through the crowd to the man. A few others crowded beside you. You checked the man’s pulse. Dead. It was far from discreet but you checked the man’s pockets for his access key or phone or anything but came up empty. You stood, suspicion clawing at you.

You don’t know why you did it but some basic instinct in your gut had you looking around for Hodak. People were standing around you, trying to figure out what happened to the arms dealer, while the more paranoid fled. You felt a prickle run up your spine and you looked to your left. There, by the far side exit, was Hodak, moving with calm ease through the crowd, once again the shark.

There was nothing definitive that made you suspect him, and yet you knew he was responsible, just like you knew that the gray-haired man was dead before you checked his pulse. You had seen it in his face before he went down. Just as Hodak made it to the door, he stopped and turned around. His green eyes finding you through the growing panic of the crowd. Then, with a smug smile, Hodak was out of the ballroom and your suspicions were confirmed. He had killed the arms dealer and chances were very good that he had the dead man’s access cards and was after the nuke.

Decided, you swept through the crowd after your murderous dance partner. If he was after the same thing you were then you had to stop him. Who knew what this deadly shark would do if he got his hands on a nuke?

You hadn’t known for sure if the suitcase bomb was being held in the hotel’s vault but you didn’t have any other clues. Hodak had a definite lead on you but you’d faced worse odds before. As soon as you were out of the ballroom, the noise quieted as you found yourself in a service hallway. 

You slipped out of your heels. They were great for dancing and distracting but lousy for running. They were fine and expensive shoes and you hated to lose them but some sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. As bad as this could so very easily go, you were glad you had taken the trouble to map out the quickest route to the vault just in case something like this happened. As usual, your preparedness was paying off.

Taking the stairs to the basement as quickly as you dared, you were soon approaching the concrete room at the center of the basement level that housed the vault. You tore through the door and there, at the vault door was Hodak. He turned at hearing you enter and then urgently redoubled his efforts on the vault door as you charged at him. He had just managed to open the massive door and made to enter it but you were too quick as you full-on rammed into him with your shoulder. While he might have more muscle on you, you weren’t exactly a waif and it was enough to shove him into the hard metal of the vault with a heavy breath driven out of him by your assault.

He swore and brought his elbow down on your back. Now it was your turn to swear as you buckled beneath his elbow but retaliated by stepping on his foot with as much weight as you could muster without your high heels. He stepped back, his back hitting the vault but you straightened up again, shoving up with your head and slamming into his chin. His arms came up and shoved hard against your shoulders, throwing you back.

You struggled to keep your feet, not relishing the thought of how brutal this was going to be. As precise and masterful as he was in the bedroom, it was clear he had an acute knowledge of the human body and could use it to hurt just as well, if not better, than he could to bring pleasure.

Just then the door you’d just came through opened again. Your’s and Hodak’s eyes met then together you looked to the door. In walked one of the drug lords you’d talked to earlier and two larger goons. They took one look at the pair of you and the open vault door and then they were heading for you. Clearer-headed opponents may have waited to suss out the animosity between you and Hodak and tried to figure out if you were both truly enemies instead of taking you both on at once but instead they’d opted for the brutish move of heading for you blindly. The drug lord was obviously neither a clever man nor a clear-headed one.

His two thugs were soon upon you and Hodak while the drug lord himself made for the vault. Your quarrel wasn’t over with Hodak by a long shot but you both had more immediate threats to deal with and thus paused your fight to take on the large goons. You were grateful at least that Hodak had the same idea and focused his attention on the very tall men instead of you once your back was turned.

It was always difficult to take on bigger opponents but your time with the Agency had taught you how to gain the upper hand. Men like this tended to rely on their size and brute strength instead of focusing on their aim or proficiency like you did. Because of this, while you couldn’t avoid all the blows from them, your flexibility and size made it easier to dodge. You also had gotten pretty good at getting them to tire themselves out. Your opponent had already managed to slam himself into the side of the vault twice and you were aiming for a third. You could hear Hodak grunting somewhere behind you as he fought his thug and a small part of you wondered what would happen when he’d taken down his attacker. Would he come to fight you or your opponent or bee-line for the vault? Considering you didn’t even know what you would do, you couldn’t be sure. You’d just have to fight that bridge when you came to it.

In the meantime, you aimed a kick at the large man only for him to reach out with one of his meaty hands and catch your foot by the ankle. There was a brief moment as he held it that you tried to pull it loose but he only grabbed tighter. This was definitely going to hurt. He pulled you to him with a tug that was immediately followed by the feel of something giving in your knee. You cried out in pain. Before you could try to dislodge your aching leg from his grip he pulled again as you stumbled against him. And then one large hand was around your throat lifting you off the ground and shoving you against the side of the vault.

Your head ached from the slam against the metal but that wasn’t your chief concern right then. You tried to kick at him with your uninjured leg but his arms were too long for you to do any real damage. You tried clawing at his face with your nails but, again, you were too far out of range so you were left with scrabbling at his hands with little effect. Your vision started to swim as spots began to form but he only tightened his grip. Your lungs were burning and you knew you were almost out of time. Then, his grip slackened and you forced your eyes open only to see a familiar slackening expression before his hand let go and he fell to the side with a crash. You slid to the ground against the vault with only slightly more grace, still awkwardly landing on your injured leg.

You looked up in surprise to see Hodak standing in front of you, an empty syringe in his hand. If you had to guess, it was what he used to take out the arms dealer in the ballroom. His own assailant was sprawled on the floor behind him by the door, and given Hodak’s track record today, was very likely dead. This, of course, raised the question of what that meant for you and why he had just saved you.

Your hand came up to massage your tender throat as you stared at each other. Before either of you spoke or made any other moves, the drug lord emerged from the vault with a gas canister in one hand and a gun in the other. You froze, if you were right, that was the sarin gas Bosley had told you about. The man halted at seeing the pair of you standing before him and his employees on the floor. He pointed his gun at you.

Hodak made to take a step towards him but he quickly shifted the gun to Hodak instead.

“Don’t move!” the man shouted, visibly panicking at having his back up dispatched so quickly.

You and Hodak regarded him. You knew you couldn’t let him leave with the sarin but you weren’t exactly in top form at the moment.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” the drug lord said, his voice shaking slightly, “you two are going to stay right where you are and I’m going to back out of here. I will shoot you if you move, and if anything happens to me, I drop this sarin and we all die. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you said, resigned while Hodak nodded, murder and scheming in his eyes.

You didn’t know how, but you knew, between the two of you, that sarin wouldn’t be leaving this hotel.

Watching the drug lord shuffle his way out of the room you had no idea how a man as jittery as him had gotten to where he was. In his line of work, this couldn’t have been the toughest jam he’d found himself in. Even the cushiest of criminals had their fair share of brushes with death. And yet he was a mess: constantly shifting the focus of his gun between you and Hodak as he walked backward.

He really should have paid more attention to where he was going. Hodak and you noticed at the same time that his path would take him right into the fallen goon. Hodak stiffened and you started to lean forward but the man only got jumpier in response.

“Don’t move!” he shouted shrilly.

“But you’re going to-” you began and got the gun pointed at you for your trouble as he cut you off.

“No! No mind games! Just shut up and stay still!”

He was almost to the thug now. You tried again, better be shot than die from sarin poisoning just because he was an idiot, “But-”

The guy shuffled the last few inches, almost to get away from you quicker and stumbled right into the outstretched legs. There was an almost comical moment when he just continued to stumble. If not for your hurt leg you would have tried to dive forward to catch the canister but you knew you’d never make it in time.

Hodak seemed to have the same idea, and you could practically see his brain making calculations and then he was rushing past you to the still-open vault door. You had half a thought of making a run to leave the room but there was only one entrance/exit and you’d have to pass the drug lord and the falling canister of sarin to get it. Hodak had the right idea.

Just as you realized this, the gas container hit the floor with a crash, the safety mechanism cracking and when the indicator turned red, you knew the gas was escaping. Almost immediately, the drug lord’s eyes and nose began to water and he began to cough. That was when the canister began to roll towards you. Pushing past the pain in your leg, you increased your efforts to follow Hodak. You were still six feet from the door but Hodak beat you to it and you felt a chill run through your veins. If he pulled the door closed behind him you were going to die just like the drug lord whose coughs only grew worse as the sarin rolled closer.

You had to keep trying. Two more feet and Hodak was inside, his hand was on the handle, but he paused for the briefest of seconds as his fingers wrapped around it and then he looked at you. This felt like the worst reprise of the moment in the elevator last night when Hodak pressed the door close button on the businessman. Only this time, you were positive he would be closing the door on you. And then, like a miracle and just like last night, he surprised you and extended his arm in your direction.

His green eyes were wide and alert but his hand was steady as you took it and then he was pulling you into the vault with him and shutting the door behind you. You were still holding his hand, tugged up against his chest when the lock slid into place and you heard a clang as the metal canister hit the door outside.

You should be dead. If not for Hodak, you would have been and you still couldn’t understand why you weren’t. But, here you were: trapped inside a vault with some of the most deadly nerve gas cutting off your escape route and in the arms of a man who’d killed three people in the last ten minutes alone. Oh, and he happened to have given you one of the best fucks of your life last night but that was obviously besides the point. You had no idea why he’d saved you once, let alone twice or if he was just about to use this opportunity to torture information out of you.

Your breathing was heavy as you looked up at his unreadable expression, one thought echoing over and over: What had you gotten yourself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwuhahahaha! yep, i went with a cliffhanger. but you know what that means? if you guys want to see what happens next, you gotta comment and let me know!


	3. A Deal in the Depths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry it’s been so long. I’d wanted to get this up much sooner but my workload and personal life have been absolutely insanely busy and i’ve barely had any time to myself for months. Thank the Angels that the movie is out on digital now so I can watch whenever I want and not whenever i can find enough time to drive an hour to and back to the only theater within driving distance still playing it.  
> Alright, enough rambling, back to the fun in the vault!

You were still in his arms. Hodak looked down at you in a way that was equal parts suggestive and curious and it was too much. You made to take a step back and nearly stumbled as you had momentarily forgotten about your injured leg. His hands, still on your arms, held you fast, an almost amused look on his face.

You closed your eyes against the brief flare of pain and took a breath, adjusting your balance to compensate for your tender knee.

You looked back up to meet his gaze, “I’ve got it.”

His hands didn’t move as he continued to study you.

“Really,” you insisted, firm and sure, “you can let go now.”

He looked dubious but, ever so slowly, he released his grip and his arms trailed down yours to rest by his sides before he took a step back.

There was a large, sturdy metal counter near the middle of the vault jutting out from one wall. You imagined it was there so various parties could inspect their merchandise before or after storing it in the myriad of safes that made up the walls of the vault. This counter was the only horizontal surface besides the floor and you limped over to it. It wasn’t a massive injury and you knew that, if the need arose, you could sprint a short distance or even disguise the limp but there was no point in using such energy now.

You hopped up on the counter and scooted so your back was resting against the wall and your bad leg was stretched across the surface but, most importantly, you were still facing Hodak. Given all you had seen him do today, it was unwise to fully turn your back to him anytime soon.

He hadn’t moved since stepping away from you. His eyes meeting yours with amusement as if the two of you weren’t stuck in a vault with a deadly nerve agent right outside. No, it would take more than this to get under his skin. You almost had to remind a small part of yourself to not see that as a challenge. You took a breath. This was going to be a very, very long day. You had to remember that this man was dangerous and deadly and that underestimating him would get you killed. 

First things first though, you had to see how impenetrable this vault was. You gave an experimental triple tap to your angel wings at the back of your neck. If your comms had a clear satellite link, you would hear a short tone as it connected you to Bosley.

There was nothing. Great. Just great. This was going to get more complicated. You’d been trained in a variety of ways to boost the signal, but, given your current situation and the limited tools at your disposal, you knew you couldn’t do it alone. 

There was no point in beating around the bush and you certainly weren’t going to get out of here any sooner by sitting there crafting the perfect business-like opening line. So instead you went with, “I need your phone.”

He raised an eyebrow, both questioning the almost demand and also in slight surprise that you had broken the silence so soon. He didn’t say any of that, of course, but you’d gotten pretty good at reading him.

You almost rolled your eyes. You had no interest in playing games right now. You held out your hand. “Do you want to get out of here?”

This earned you a dubious expression with a slight mischievous tilt to his lips as he took in your form again in that very flattering dress.

“Oh my god,” you sighed, leaning your head back and staring at the ceiling, your hand still extended, “do you specifically want to get out of here without dying from sarin exposure in any kind of timely manner?”

You felt the cool pressure of his phone in your hand without having heard him move towards you. Damned silent assassin.

“Thank you,” you said gruffly, before pulling your own slim phone from your discreet dress pocket.

He studied you, a skeptic look alight in his eyes as he then eyed the walls and then back to the phones in your hands pointedly as if to say that the walls and security of the vault were definitely too thick to get a signal out.

“I know they’ve got no signal on their own, genius. I’m getting creative.” You muttered without looking up.

You navigated through your phone for the correct latent app and then set it on your lap and opened up the back of his phone without ceremony and set about picking things apart to reveal the circuitry. 

You heard the slightest unhappy tsk from him so you replied shortly, “Deal with it. You can buy a new one when we get out of here.”

After a bit of tinkering with first his phone and then yours with the help of a hairpin, you got them connected and improvised into a signal booster. You reached back and triple tapped your wings again and heard the blessed sound of the connecting tone.

“Can you hear me Bosley?” you asked and caught sight of Hodak’s head turning out of the corner of your eye in response to the name. You couldn’t tell if he knew the name or not but as you had your hands full at the moment, you just filed the reaction away for later.

“Well enough,” you heard a familiar comforting British accent, though it was a little tinny with the macgyvered connection. “Did something happen, angel?” 

“You could say that. First things first, you have to evacuate at least the bottom few floors of the hotel. I got intercepted by a drug lord at the vault and he broke the sarin canister. The basement and the vault room are definitely contaminated but I was unable to track if it spread beyond this level.”

“Good lord,” Bosley said quickly, “are you safe?”

Your mouth quirked in the slightest smile. You both obviously had other priorities right now but you liked that that was his first question. 

“Yes Bosley, I’m safe; but that leads me to the second problem: my exit was blocked so I had to get inside the vault to avoid the sarin.” You paused, then added, no point in avoiding it. “And I’m not alone.”

You heard light chuckling, “You certainly know how to get yourself into the most interesting situations. Is your company friendly or hostile?”

You looked over to Hodak, grateful that he couldn’t hear Bosley, trying to decide how to answer, “I’m still trying to figure that out.”

Another chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll have the situation well in hand by the time I finally get you out of there but I’ll bring reinforcements just in case.”

You sighed, “That sounds like it’s going to take a while.”

“Indeed,” he answered, “between evacuating the hotel, navigating the various parties entrenched there, containing the sarin and sterilizing the area, I anticipate it taking several hours.”

“Best case scenario?”

“At best, at least 4 hours. Though I anticipate something closer to 5 or 6.” He said and you could almost hear him bustling about as he got down to business.

You closed your eyes. You knew these things took time but that was still a bit longer than you wanted to spend alone with an assassin you’d shagged.

“Understood,” was all you said, trying to be professional.

“Hang in there Y/N. I shan’t be long,” Bosley said as encouragingly as he could, “And if you get bored, maybe you can see about laying hands on the suitcase nuke and disarming it.”

“Very comforting, Boz, thanks for that. I’ll do what I can,” You said, resigned to your fate.

“See you soon, angel,” he said fondly then added, almost like an afterthought. “Stay safe.”

You smiled then replied, “I will. See you soon.”

And with that, you heard the click of the line going dead. You set the phones on the counter beside you and closed your eyes briefly, trying to come up with a game plan for the next 4 or more hours. 

“Of course you’re a fucking Angel.” Hodak finally said, speaking to you for only the second time that day.

You turned and looked at him with a satisfied expression at getting him to talk, “Yes, and you’re a fucking assassin. Care to comment on that development?”

He crossed his arms, giving you a petulant tight-lipped smile before looking away.

This time you did roll your eyes. What was the point in his mime routine when you two had already seen each other naked?

“Nothing?” you asked, already exhausted at the thought of a four hour long one-sided conversation. “No denial? What about a rebuttal or maybe some good, old-fashioned gloating? I’ve got it. You could go big with a supervillain monologue about finally getting me right where you want me.”

That at least got you a grin of appreciation for the fairly obvious innuendo.

You sighed. It wasn’t hopeless, it was just frustrating. He probably got off on frustrating people by holding all the control and never speaking but you weren’t going to accept that if you were both going to be stuck in here for hours.

You tried another tack. You’d encountered your fair share of assassins and spies and the thing you’d learned is that most of them had a type of code. It wasn’t always morally sound and very often had nothing to do with ethics and more to do with greed and personal gain but it was there. You’d worked or talked your way out of a number of dangerous encounters with various hostile parties by figuring out their own personal code or rules and either needling them about it or exploiting it.

Some would only kill people they were being paid to kill or if it was easier. In those cases, your best bet was to make it more difficult to kill you or more worth their while to let you live. Sometimes it was just a matter of alleviating their rage or revenge if you weren’t their target. Other times you just had to either get out of their way or take them out but this would certainly be an unusual case.

By your count, Hodak could have killed you a minimum of six different ways today alone. And yet, for whatever reason, he hadn’t. Obviously, the two of you had had a real go at taking the other out before the drug lord came along but since then Hodak had saved you twice and you couldn’t figure out why. The two of you were very likely after the same things which made you competition and yet he hadn’t just stood aside and let you be eliminated when he could have. It made no fucking sense and that rankled at you.

If he was trying to use or manipulate you, you wanted to know and, as he was unlikely to tell you on his own, you were just going to have to poke the dragon.

“No? Not your style?” You asked, blatantly teasing him. “What’s it gonna be then, just save time and energy and kill me once my back is turned?”

You heard a disapproving sigh and then, “Where would be the fun in that?”

You gave him an eye twinkling smile at the small victory, “he speaks!”

It was a shallow victory as it was handed to you but you took your amusement where you could before getting back to business. “So what’s the deal here? You came in with the Serbians and you took out the arms dealer. Don’t tell me the cartel is looking to get into nuclear weapons. That seems a tad extreme of them to me.”

He stared at you for a long minute as if he was contemplating keeping his silence but you stared him down in return as if trying to wordlessly communicate to him that you were exceptionally stubborn and weren’t going to let this go. He must have got the message because he actually answered, “The Serbians weren’t but their competition was. I was tasked to make sure they didn’t get their hands on it.”

“By any means necessary, I take it,” you replied and he gave you a nod in return. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I defuse it then?”

He waved his hand in the exact direction of the vault it was stored in. You both had clearly done your homework.

You scooted to the edge of the counter again and carefully hopped down. You took care this time and eyed Hodak suspiciously almost as if daring him to try to help you. He was smart though and stayed where he was, clearly amused by the look you gave him. That was fine as long as he didn’t hold any ridiculous notions of you being helpless or any kind of damsel. It had already smarted at your pride that he’d saved you twice when you didn’t even know why.

You held out your hand to him for the second time since being locked in here, “Keys please.”

Thankfully he didn’t try to play dumb with you. You both knew he’d swiped the access codes and keys from the arms dealer and you were glad he didn’t try to insult your intelligence by pretending he didn’t. Instead he pulled the appropriate fob out of his pocket and handed it to you. As unconventional and nearly grudging a partnership as you two were currently experiencing, you had to admit you both had gotten very good very quickly at reading and understanding the other. If he weren’t an assassin you might be tempted to suggest future team ups. Unfortunately, the way things currently stood, it didn’t look likely.

You made quick work of the lock and then you were swinging the door open and pulling the suitcase out and back over to the counter. When you pulled out the little kit you’d strapped to your thigh, you earned a naughty smile from Hodak. There had been no reason to see what his reaction was but you enjoyed gauging his response. He was a distraction- no doubt about it; but considering how completely off the rails this mission already was, there wasn’t much harm in perhaps being slow to right your dress and cover your uninjured leg. After seeing his appreciative gaze, you refocused and hopped back onto the counter to get wrist-deep in launch mechanisms and tricky false wires. 

To Hodak’s credit, he let you immerse yourself in the mechanics, staying perfectly still in your periphery and just watching you work your magic. Disarming or disengaging a nuke wasn’t an exact science and some would argue you could disconnect the starting mechanism but not really do so much about the whole nuclear weapon part of it but you didn’t need fancy right now. If you could keep it from starting or talking to any other system until it could be dealt with by the experts at the Townsend Agency, that would be enough. 

You weren’t sure exactly how long it took, maybe half an hour but probably more. The work was certainly engrossing. You liked having a task to focus on, things to keep your hands busy. Hodak didn’t seem to have that problem though. You weren’t sure he had even moved the whole time, instead just leaning against the vault wall and watching you. It was maybe a little unnerving the first few minutes but as you’d settled into the disarming, you’d gotten used to it.

But now that you’d finished your task, you almost resented your proficiency. You’d hoped it would have taken you longer but it’s not like you were about to dawdle in disengaging a nuclear weapon just because you didn’t want to be alone with an assassin and have nothing else to do. Your main task done, you went about cleaning up the discarded bits of the bomb and packed the nuke itself back in it’s case. Then, for lack of anything better to do, you gingerly hopped down from the counter and put the deactivated bomb in the far corner. Once that was done, you straightened up and turned back around, unsure what to do with yourself now.

“How long until your cavalry arrives?” He asked coolly.

You faced him properly, trying to resist showing surprise. He was not an idle chat sort of guy and this almost seemed superfluous. Like he was asking to make conversation or something but that didn’t track with all that you’d surmised about him so far.

You settled for giving him the slightest of suspicious squints when you answered, “At least 3 more hours.”

He just nodded like you’d only confirmed his suspicions. Why did everything with this man have to feel like some sort of game or contest? Like you had to keep your guard up or you’d lose something even if you didn’t know what it was. Your exhaustion from earlier seemed to creep back into your bones.

The whole situation made you uncomfortable in a way you couldn’t name. While most of that discomfort was purely mental or emotional, a degree of that discomfort did stem from your injuries. You wanted to pummel the goon who’d hurt you but then you remembered that he was dead and there was little point to that now. So while you wanted to just stand there on the opposite side of the vault from Hodak and stay as stoic and unmoving as a statue, your body didn’t leave you much choice. Grudgingly and as smoothly as possible, you limped back to the counter and hopped back on, unable to hold in a slight hiss of pain at the way the movement jostled your knee as you maneuvered it up.

“Do you want me to take a look at that for you?” Hodak asked.

He was still standing against the wall, as if being very intentional about not making a move in your direction but his question was still heavy in the air.

You tried once again to repress expressing your shock and suspicion. You were relatively certain that you had dislocated your knee and it would need to be popped back into place but you weren’t sure giving Hodak permission to put his hands on you was the best idea. Given that he was a proficient assassin and you were injured, you were perhaps even more suspicious of his motives because he was asking for that permission in the first place. It was a nice and polite thing to do and those were two words that did not come to mind when it came to Hodak. He was clever and precise and dangerous and exacting- he was not nice. He was not a gentleman so why bother with niceties?

“Why would you want to? Why help me at all? You could have killed me six ways today but you didn’t.” It was like you’d issued a challenge, and maybe not the wisest one, but for a cold-blooded killer, he was not behaving like one and you wouldn’t be able to get easy until you knew why.

Slowly, he took a step closer and it took everything you had to remain still, to not flinch. You were skilled and capable and you would not let yourself be intimidated or to be seen as such.

“Ten ways actually, but who’s counting?” He answered without any amount of pleasure or satisfaction or teasing that you might have expected. He said it like he might say that it was raining outside. “Do you want my help or not?”

You should say no. You should try to keep as much distance between the two of you as possible. You should not say another word to him in the vault and just bear the pain stoically like the badass you are. But your knee hurt so much and a part of you was curious. It may have been the pain talking but you were starting to seriously consider his offer. Yes, he very well could walk right over and murder you if you said yes, but then again, he could do that anyway at any time. You couldn’t help but think that being certain you were about to face harm was a very unpleasant way to spend four or so hours. If he was going to kill you or maim you or whatever else you feared, you might as well get it over with and end the suspense.

You were almost certain you would regret this later but for now you just threw your hand up and said, “Sure. Go for it.”

He looked almost surprised at the speed of your acquiescence but was quick to act. He strode confidently and smoothly to stand beside you. Even though you could feel goosebumps forming, you made yourself stay still and tried to affect an unconcerned air. You knew it was a losing battle but, even injured, you refused to cow before him or seem weak.

You adjusted the skirt of the dress so that the slit exposed from your mid thigh down but everything above it was covered. Even if he’d seen everything there was to see already, you didn’t necessarily want to invite this situation to become more intimate than it needed to be. He stepped even closer as he fixed his full attention on your knee, which, now that you were really looking at it, you could see it was swelling and pinkish, as well as slightly protruding out the wrong way.

He extended his hand, about to touch the swollen skin when, at the last moment, he stopped and looked at you. You nodded, better to get this over with. You could almost describe the way his hand probed the injury as gentle, but perhaps clinical was more accurate. He put only the amount of pressure needed to evaluate. It would be easy for him to prod and hurt and take advantage, but he didn’t. When he did press, he looked up to see your reaction, clearly using your response as a diagnostic tool. Finally, he removed his hands and looked at you properly.

“It’s definitely dislocated,” he said, which, yes, you had already suspected.

“Can you set it?” you asked before you could second guess yourself any further.

He paused for the briefest moment, not like he didn’t know if he could but more that he wasn’t sure what to make of your about-face from resisting his help to asking for it. But, honestly, if he was going to play at being helpful and not murderous, at least you could get your knee popped back into place out of it. You’d still have to see the doctors at the Townsend Agency and you’d be off your feet for awhile for recovery but this would help get you through the day, provided you survived it, of course.

For the first time since you’d met him the day before, he hesitated. It was brief and perhaps you had only caught that slight reaction because you’d been watching him so closely but it was a second of pause. The only answer for it to immediately come to your mind didn’t completely fit with everything else you’d seen in him but it felt right.

“I know it’ll hurt,” you said in response to that pause, “it’ll be easier if we just get it over with.”

He didn’t acknowledge this or even admit that’s why he hesitated, he just moved on as if he hadn’t slowed and shifted to stand at the end of the counter where he could grip your ankle and your calf. Laymen wouldn’t know how to do this right without possibly tearing it or injuring it more but someone couldn’t be as accomplished in knowing the best ways to kill or injure someone like Hodak was without some deep knowledge of the human body.

He met your eyes for a second to make sure you were braced properly and then, with a masterful twist of his fingers, you could feel your knee slide back into place. It was painful, of course it was, but it was better than the continued strain of being misaligned. You couldn’t help but to breathe heavily against the pain but you could already tell he’d done an expert job.

“Thank you,” You rasped. The exertion of your breathing unfortunately only served to highlight the soreness of your throat where the thug had tried choking you earlier. You brought your fingers up to the site in response to the flare of pain.

His eyes hadn’t left you since resetting your leg. You could have almost sworn you could see traces of concern as he watched you.

“Can I?” he asked, pointing to where your hands rested over the forming bruises.

You held his gaze for another minute, as if willing to understand why before relenting.

In answer, you lifted your chin to better display the affected area. Since it was difficult to watch him with your head in this position, you opted to look at the ceiling instead as you felt his oh-so-talented hands trace along the skin of your neck. All the while you were acutely aware of how easily he could end your life with the slightest twitch. It took everything within you to not flinch or push him away.

Just as quickly as they’d come, you felt his hands drop away and you lowered your head to hold his gaze once more. The look he had fixed on you was nothing short of intense but you held it evenly.

“You’ll live,” was all he said in regards to your neck but his word choice was weighted with double meaning and you both knew it.

“Why?” you asked, unable to stop yourself.

There was that questioning eyebrow raise again at your response.

“Why haven’t you killed me?” You elaborated. It was possibly tempting fate to ask such a question because it could just inspire him to realize it’s easier to go ahead and kill you but you felt that wasn’t the case. You needed to know. You couldn’t spend another minute, let alone another few hours alone with the deadliest man you’ve ever met and not know why you were even still breathing when, by all rights, this devil of a man should have killed you.

He studied you, and for once, it was hard to read the flickers of emotion pulsing in his eyes. You sensed he was testing your resolve, though perhaps he was testing his own, as he weighed the options of what he could or should tell you. You had no reason to expect he might but you hoped he just might surprise you further and tell you the truth.

Finally, he sighed, and his resolve seemed to strengthen before he finally said, “Because it would be a waste.”

You blinked, you weren’t sure what you had expected but it hadn’t been that. And as you studied him, it felt like it might even be true but that didn’t mean you were entirely sure what he meant when he said it. You had no idea what to make of such a statement and as such you were at a loss on how to reply. 

Then he surprised you further by choosing to elaborate. “You’re very good at what you do. If I hadn’t suspected you might be involved with something after last night, I might not have noticed the signs of your trade.”

“The signs of my trade?” You asked.

“You’re very skilled at wheedling out information without the person even seeming to realize what they’ve given away. You ask just enough, steer the conversation in the exact direction that will lead your mark to telling you what you want without raising their suspicions.” He said it all matter-of-factly, as if your actions and your methods were the subject of a textbook he had read.

It had taken you years of training and improvising to perfect your method and you were almost a little miffed that he’d so easily read you. It felt like you were a magician and he was an audience member who came up on stage to reveal how you did all your tricks. You’d known he was good at reading you but it felt a little exposing to know the depths to which he’d understood you.

You paused as you thought over his answer when something he said niggled at you, “Wait, what do you mean you suspected I was into something last night?”

You thought over the breadth of your encounter with him for anything that might have given you away last night. If he had seen your wings last night he might have had a suspicion but he hadn’t seemed to have known you were an Angel until your call with Bosley today. You hadn’t let him into your immaculate suite and it’s not like you had a nametag on last night that advertised you were a spy.

“You were so focused on what you want. I recognized something in the way you read the room before you landed on me.” For someone who talked very little, he almost seemed to take a kind of pleasure in your reaction to his answer. He stopped, then added, almost as an afterthought, “and let’s just say that nice, normal girls don’t go to bed with me.”

You worked hard to remain still and affect an air of being unaffected despite how his words twisted inside of you. His latter words seemed to resonate with some dark truth within you that you had no interest in confronting so you pushed it aside and focused on his former statement as you tried to weave a cohesive answer to the question you had asked.

“I still don’t understand. If you recognized I was an operative, and by your account, a good one with a similar mission to your own, why not take out the competition? How would that be a waste?”

He smiled like he took a kind of pleasure in seeing the gears of your mind turn, “Maybe I like a challenge.”

You scowled at that. That wasn’t it and you both knew it. There were plenty of ways to make things more challenging without letting the competition live. He was an extremely talented operative in his own right but what he suggested implied a cockiness that didn’t feel like it completely explained it. He was the type to have every contingency planned for. But if you were as skilled as he was saying you were, there’s no way he could plan for every action that you could make. He wouldn’t be able to guarantee success with certainty if you were left on the board and thus, his answer made no sense.

“Bull shit,” you countered.

“Fair enough,” he said with his predatory grin. He seemed to enjoy the fact that you’d seen through him, almost as if you were proving his point. “I was hoping to recruit you.”

You didn’t detect any artifice but that seemed to only surprise you more.

“Wait, what?” you spluttered. “Are you telling me that you were going to use not murdering me as some kind of recruitment pitch?”

“Something like that.”

“What is it that you’ve seen about me that makes you think i would want to work for the Serbian cartel?”

“I’m not with the Serbian cartel,” he answered simply. You were about to call bullshit again when he elaborated, “I’m a freelancer. I don’t do full time contracts or employers. The Serbians hired me for this one job but I have no loyalty to them or they to me.”

It made a kind of sense. He didn’t seem like the type to stay in one place, let alone with one cartel for long. 

“You’re still a freelance assassin,” you pointed out. “What is it about me that makes you think I would want to become one too?”

“Nothing. You’re a professional goody-two-shoes.” he answered, “but can you honestly say you always feel like you belong with Townsend? That your place lies amongst Angels? Don’t you ever want to stretch your wings and see what working without limits could be like?”

He had inched ever so closer as he spoke, coming to stand with his face inches from yours and you had to admit, it was one hell of a pitch. He certainly knew how to use every tool in his belt including his not inconsiderable physical presence.

You knew it gave away more than you liked but you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched at the question. He had an effect on you and he knew it. He’d said you were good at reading and manipulating people, but he was certainly skilled all on his own; although there was always a chance that his skills affected you particularly. It was almost like there was some kind of reciprocal resonance between you two but you weren’t certain that was a good thing.

Rather than waiting til you could come up with some coherent refusal or rebuttal to his question when you weren’t even 100% sure he was wrong, he kept going, stepping closer by another tantalizing inch, “Just think of what you could do without any rules in your way. Isn’t it possible that the Angels are holding you back?”

You tried to think straight but it was very hard given your proximity but you couldn’t seem to be able to bring yourself to move away. You hated that he wasn’t completely wrong. You’d joined the Agency in the first place because you’d seen people get hurt by the system and wanted to help them in ways that domestic law enforcement couldn’t. And compared to the police or standard government agencies, there was much less bureaucratic nonsense and red tape. And yet, you still felt restricted. There were all sorts of procedures you had to follow and paperwork to file and endless, mindless surveillance to triple verify everything.

When you’d joined, Charlie had said that they valued individuality and appreciated what made each angel different and yet there were times when you felt like the other angels looked down on you if you did things your own way. They called you reckless and bullheaded and ambitious. They acted like something was wrong with you if you wanted more or if you wanted to live by your own means rather than what the Townsend Agency thought was fair. All of the Angels enjoyed the Closet and the various toys of the trade but you wanted more than to just borrow and stay in the Agency’s outposts and safehouses. You wanted something tangible you could call your own. You wanted more than to just be another Angel in the crowd, with nothing but the satisfaction of a job well done to keep you warm at night. And you resented those who made you feel less for that want. You were not afflicted by greed or gluttony, you just wanted more and you refused to be made to feel inferior for that.

You’d tried so hard over the years to keep that all inside, to tamp yourself down into the shape of the perfect ambitionless Angel but somehow you never quite fit. And yet, not everyone expected that of you. Bosley had always seen you as you were and never tried to make you someone you weren’t. He would help you feel like you belonged, that he actually understood who you were. It was one of the reasons why you worked well together. He made you feel like you were one of the best because of all of those qualities, not in spite of them. And if you went off book he’d cover for you or look the other way and never made you feel like less because you weren’t a cookie cutter Angel.

So even if you could accept the idea of possibly leaving the Agency, you couldn’t leave Bosley. He was both your mentor and your friend and after all you had done together, you couldn’t leave him so easily. He deserved more loyalty than that.

Decided, you squared your shoulders and took in a deep breath before looking back into Hodak’s waiting gaze.

He smirked, “so that’s a no?”

You almost rolled your eyes, the two of you were entirely too good at interpreting each other.

“What can I say?” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to keep your tone light, as if he hadn’t just made you question your whole path. “Some people inspire more loyalty than the Serbian cartel.” 

“Some people might actually deserve that kind of loyalty,” he allowed. You tried hard to quell the feeling that he’d already deduced it was Bosley from your call earlier.

He was still standing so close and all of your nerves lit up when his hand, which had been resting on the countertop beside your leg, slowly edged up to ghost along the exposed skin of your thigh.

Your breathing hitched and you made a concerted effort to not move away. Instead you fixed your gaze on him and asked, "what are you doing?"

“By your count we have around three hours before we get out of here. Do you have a better suggestion for how we can occupy ourselves?” He teased, his hand slowly rising higher up your leg.

Technically speaking this was a dangerous proposition. First and foremost this was a bad idea because he was a calculating and murderous hired gun with dubious morals and it would not be a good idea to encourage this sort of behavior. Secondly you shouldn’t do this because Bosley was very good and there was every chance he could get the work done in a shorter amount of time and it would be extremely embarrassing to be caught in flagrante by your mentor and friend as well as whatever reinforcements he’d managed to muster up if they managed to get to you sooner than estimated. Thirdly, while unlikely, it was possible that some other party could try to retrieve their merchandise from the vault and thus delay Bosley’s team so as to beat them to the punch. And fourth, his hands were easing back the material of your dress ever so slowly as they climbed higher and higher and what were you thinking again?

You closed your eyes at his dirty tactics and tried to think rationally about the situation. But as many reasons as there were not to indulge Hodak’s naughty intentions, there was perhaps a good one to go along with it. Last night you’d had some of the best sex of your life and after everything you had observed about him since then, you knew he could top his own performance if you gave him another shot. And considering it was extremely likely that he would be in the custody of the Townsend Agency and pretty much off the market for future sexual encounters after today, this might be your last opportunity to indulge with him. It was perhaps not your finest work of deductive reasoning but your logic was being severely impaired by the work of his clever fingers.

“What the hell,” you finally sighed before grabbing onto his neck and pulling him into you.

You could feel him smile into your kiss and you wanted to be mad at him but it was very hard to summon up any shred of disapproval with his mouth on yours. There was a great big chance you were going to regret this later but, right now, right here in this vault with his hands on you and your future together looking nonexistent, you shoved all regret as far away from you as you could. If this was going to happen, you wanted to enjoy it as much as you could without any preemptive guilt getting in your way.

He was holding onto the back of your head with one hand while his other was raising the hem of your skirt up even further. It really was easier to just give in. You sent a silent prayer to whoever would listen that no one would rescue you ahead of schedule and then gave yourself permission to just enjoy however long this ended up lasting.

You both let your hands wander as you savored the moment. The sexual tension between the two of you had been simmering all day and it felt good to finally let it boil over and give in. Before too long, his mouth was on your neck again, giving delicious attention to your unbruised side and you were closing your eyes and leaning your head back. He didn’t linger there though, which surprised you but you weren’t going to complain when he moved his attentions down your bare shoulder and arm.

With your eyes closed, it became a sort of fun game to guess where he would go next. You thought that he might try undoing your halter to bring your breasts into play but his actual goals were far more scintillating when you felt him grab hold of your hips and pull them gently enough not to jostle your knee but firm enough so that you were now centered on the counter close to the edge. You kept your injured leg extended but positioned yourself so as to accommodate his direction. You had an inkling of what he intended and you were more than happy to help.

You opened your eyes and looked to see him down on his knees before you and felt butterflies in your stomach at the sight. Your good leg still dangled from the counter in front of him and you soon felt one hand wrap around your bare ankle before tracing up your leg. His fingers danced up to the soft skin of your thighs, taking the material of your skirt with him. Your own hands came down to help him hike the dress up around your waist and out of his way. And then his hands were at your panties. In response, you grabbed hold of his shoulders and used his support to raise up enough for him to pull your underwear out from under you. With some agile bending of your uninjured leg, your panties were now mostly off and left to hang on the thigh of your hurt leg above your knee.

Your barriers out of the way, you moved your other leg up on the counter, spreading your legs for him. The look on his face was deeply appreciative and, Lord help you, that look turned you on even more. Hodak’s ever-capable hands were at your thighs now, both to keep them open and as an anchor for himself, as he leaned in. Just the feel of his breath on your most sensitive skin was enough to send a slight tremor through you. His hands on your thighs ever so subtly increased pressure in response. He had you right where he wanted and he wasn’t about to let you go anywhere. 

He came in even closer and let out a breath intentionally this time and looked up to see your response. It took everything within you to not grab the back of his head and bury his face in your folds but you resisted, if only just barely. You’d begun to suspect that he had a bit of a control kink and last night that had manifested in such intense pleasure for you that you were willing to relinquish the reins to him for a good cause. And a mind-blowing orgasm made the top of your list of good causes at this moment, you just had to be patient.

There was another pleased grin from him before his mouth became occupied with more important tasks. He was careful but intent as his tongue began to probe your entrance before delving deeper. He was moving so slow, taking his time tasting you and exploring your folds with a teasing pace. He had only just started and you were already beginning to lose it. Your hands itched to pull him closer again but you settled for letting them rest at your knees where the tips of your thumbs brushed up against the tips of his fingers where they were spread across your thighs. His fingertips began to move ever so slightly against yours, the feather-light touch on your thigh only adding another vexing layer of sensation to the highs you were already feeling.

Just as you’d settled into his gentle probing, his tongue went even deeper and stronger than he had yet. You felt yourself twitch at the change in speed. His hands on your thighs pressed down even more insistently this time to keep you in place. 

He seemed to have this innate sense of just how to move to drive you mad and he was enjoying every tortuous minute. As the tip of his tongue explored and dove, he made sure to rub the sides up against your labia. He knew how to get the most out of every move he made. Then, like before, just when you were settling into this pattern, his mouth found your clitoris and you couldn’t help the sigh of satisfaction that escaped you. You hadn’t fully realized it before now, but you had been waiting for his devilish mouth to find your clit since the moment you’d met in the bar last night.

As his tongue began to swirl around your sensitive nub, what brain power you had left knew that it was well worth the wait. Lord almighty, that man knew what to do with a clit. He was methodical as his teeth just barely grazed your clit and then again as you groaned in response. He looped his tongue around your clitoris a few more times before he began to suck on it. You couldn’t help but throw your head back as you felt that coil in your core getting tighter and tighter the more he worked.

You took back all your reservations from earlier. Bosley could come in right now and it would still be worth it. There were few things in your opinion as attractive as a man who knew how to perfrom cunninglingus well and it turned out that Hodak was an absolute master, though that didn’t surprise you at all.

The more you moaned, the more he swirled and sucked until finally your orgasm had you shooting your hands behind you to support you as your back arched and you screamed out your pleasure. The arching of your back served to only press you further into him and he took full advantage, continuing to suck and lap at your folds as you rode out our orgasm. Still coming down, your breath heaving, you looked down to see him give your swollen clit one last swipe before licking his lips with the most satisfied smile on his face, but damn him, he had more than earned that satisfaction.

Then he rose to his feet in one fluid motion and his glorious tattooed hands were at your neck, careful of where you were bruised, but confident all the same as he pulled you into a hungry kiss as if he hadn’t just had himself a whole damn meal from your cunt. You could taste yourself in the kiss but that did nothing to deter you. Your own hands came up and rested on top of his, holding him closer.

You should have been happy to just kiss him as long as you were able, but somehow, you were far from sated. You needed more of him. To that end, your hands trailed from his down his arms and then down his sides and then to his crotch where you found his length straining against his pants. You were more than happy to free him and made quick work of his fly and boxer flap. There was the slightest hitch from Hodak as your fingers finally found him and the two of you mutually pulled apart, breathing heavily as you prepared for round two. You gave his hard dick one meaningful stroke before moving back to more helpfully position yourself for the next phase.

Taking your direction surprisingly well, his hands were down from your neck and helping you. His hands went from your neck to your knees and before settling on holding onto your waist. There was something erotic about how precisely he avoided your injured areas. You knew that if he wanted to, he could do far worse than a dislocated knee and some bruises but his touch was a feather where you needed it to be and yet gripping in all the right places. It was one of the hundreds of things that was so attractive about him and every time you remembered his skill, the more aroused you became.

Taking full advantage of that, Hodak rubbed his cock across your length, slicking it with your juices. Then he was pushing into you and you both let out a breath as you adjusted. Unlike last time, he gave you both a chance to feel each other fully before he began to move again. You were not particularly religious and some would call this feeling blasphemous but there was a beat as you felt all of him inside you, his hands holding you by the waist, your own hands on his shoulders, as your chest was pressed against his that felt almost holy. As much as you wanted to see what new heights of pleasure he could take you to, you were not eager to leave this feeling or this experience behind you.

But, as all moments do, it ended. What followed was somehow even better though. He was slower this time and despite the fact that you were both still mostly clothed, this felt more intimate than last night. And then he found his rhythm, his grip on your waist even tighter as he thrust into you. You mentally cursed the thug who had dislocated your knee because it was keeping you from getting truly aerobic as you were normally able to but you both more than made do as you moved your hips in time with his. The slick sounds of your bodies coming together and your combined panting echoed around the vault as the pair of you moved even faster.

Even though you’d already had one earth-shattering orgasm, you had to war against your own instincts to speed up and chase your second. But, for right now anyway, you had plenty of time and you just wanted to savor it. One of his hands came up to caress your breast through your dress. The tips of his fingers, teasing the exposed skin of your cleavage window. His hips never slowed, continuing to pound into you with smooth sure strokes even as his eyes held yours. 

Some guys would never look at you while having sex and most of those weren’t worth a thought for another go, but not Hodak. Last night, you had thought that there was something intrinsically sexy about being his sole focus and that still rang true. You held his gaze steadily even as he continued to drive into you with increasing fervor. 

You could see it in his eyes when he was nearing the edge and, methodical and clever as he was, Hodak was maneuvering you there at the same time. You let your hips rock more forcefully now to help him, feeling like you could come from the sound of his grunting alone but you held off. The tension was almost too much but you wanted to hold out just a little bit longer so he could come first this time and then, with a shudder and a groan from him, he finally crested that hill and you let yourself go as you both came together. It was every bit as satisfying as you’d hoped.

You’d both stayed still after that, you felt yourself lean forward against his chest and he seemed to almost relax against you as the pair of you took a moment to come down from such a high. All good things come to an end, however and you felt him extricate himself from you as he let go and moved away. You pulled the skirt of your dress back down but left your underwear where it was for now.

In sharp contrast to just a few minutes ago, you suddenly couldn’t look at him. You were so afraid, after being so close and so very much on the same page, that somehow, after the lust has cleared from his brain, that he would be behind his walls again. You didn’t want to look into his eyes and see a smug stranger staring back. Instead, you pivoted your hips and scooted back so that your back could rest against the wall, your legs were straight in front of you on the counter. You saw him fasten his pants from the corner of your eye before he sat down on the ground beside you, his back against the wall of safes. He closed his eyes, clearly spent, but you could tell he wasn’t sleeping and knew he wouldn’t.

You closed your eyes as well, trying to hold onto the bliss from the previous moment and not linger on your now swirling doubts as you considered the future. There were no solutions to any of the problems now occurring to you and things were looking much bleaker than they were two days ago.

Rather than brood on yours and Hodak’s lack of a future, you let out a deep breath and just tried to focus on listening to his breathing as it returned to normal.

You were both quiet for a time after coming down. It was companionable though. There was nothing particularly worth saying just then and he obviously felt no need to fill it with useless chatter. While his silence was perhaps a little frustrating earlier, you respected it more now.

It was a very odd experience you were having with Hodak. It felt like, in the course of a day he had seen you clearer than anyone else you’d ever been with. He’d understood you so clearly and yet, the way you saw it, this was all it would ever be for the two of you. One night in his hotel room and one day stuck in a vault together. The thought made you sad but, despite his alluring offer, you still couldn’t leave Bosley. 

You’d heard several Angels over the years cite Charlie as the reason they were alive or their saving grace, but it had never been about Charlie for you. It was Bosley who had found you and believed in you and given you a new chance. If it wasn’t for John Bosley and all he’d done for you, you might consider running away with Hodak now. The whole thing was absurd. If you’d been asked last night if you could imagine doing such a thing, you would have laughed and said no way but now so much had changed. It wasn’t just how well he got you, it was also that you got him. He was so reserved and controlled and yet you could understand what he was saying even when he didn’t say a word. There was something so satisfying in being seen for who you really are and being able to see to the core of them as well.

Some lonely part of you wanted to know more. Wanted to soak up as much of him while you still could. You had the inane desire to ask him everything you could think of but that was stupid. He knew as well as you that this was likely it and he’d be taken into custody and you two would be back on separate paths. What possible benefit could he see in telling you all about him? There was none, so you just grasped on the next possible topic he might be willing to share with you.

“When we get out of here,” you started for lack of a better idea, “do you think the Serbians will come looking for you?”

“No,” he answered almost immediately.

That surprised you. “You don’t think they’ll want to know if you held up your end of the deal?”

“They won’t have to wonder.” he answered simply before he thought better and continued, “They contracted me. It’s a fact that I did.”

You looked down at him with a bemused expression, “Cocky, aren’t we?”

He gave you a dirty grin in reply because you both knew the answer to that in vivid detail.

“You have a point,” you continued, enjoying the easy banter. “You were contracted to make sure their competition didn’t get their hands on the nuke and they definitely won’t.”

“Thank you for your help with that by the way,” he replied cheekily.

You snorted, “Yeah, sure. You’re welcome.”

And there was that cocky grin again. If it weren’t for your knee, you’d be down there wiping it off his face. But instead you were up on the counter, alone with your thoughts.

“But seriously, you don’t think they’re going to want to check in with you or anything? Pay you?” you asked, though utterly unsure what the standard operating procedure for serbians cartels and their hired guns was.

“No. they paid me up front, we have no need to contact each other again. ” if you couldn’t read him so well you don’t think you would have heard just the slightest trace of sadness in his voice. 

It  _ was _ sad, you couldn’t help but think, but there was no point in saying it. He would have no use for that kind of sentiment.

He obviously wasn’t the type to feel loneliness from that kind of arrangement, but you did. You couldn’t imagine how isolating it would feel to have no one out there who had your back like Bosley had yours. As grateful as you were that Bosley was coming to get you, the thought worried you. No matter how much you thought about it, you had no way of knowing what Hodak would do once Bosley had contained the sarin and opened the safe.

It was a fact that if Hodak had wanted to kill you, he would have. Given how easily Hodak had gotten into the vault, you were reasonably sure that given time and proper motivation, Hodak could find his way out of here on his own. But, if that assumption was true, you couldn’t figure out what he was still doing here. You had expected him to knock you out and make his escape now that you two had finished fucking. And yet, he was still sitting in here with you and you couldn’t figure out why.

What would he do to Bosley and anyone else who came to your aid? Would his strange fascination with you be enough to protect Bosley? You really couldn’t say. You doubted it but were unable to see another option. It worried you. You didn’t want anything to happen to Bosley but, as you were less than fighting form, you weren’t sure you could take Hodak out at this point and you weren’t even sure you wanted to. What a quandary you had found yourself in.

-

Another two hours passed with another round of satisfying sex, a spattering of conversation and companionable silence. And then, much sooner than Bosley had estimated, you heard a familiar knock pattern at the door. You double checked that you’d replaced your underwear earlier and that you weren’t too obviously sex-rumpled as the massive steel door opened. You found your eyes darting between the door and Hodak, as if expecting him to pounce on whoever came in. To your surprise, Hodak remained where he stood, leaning against the wall- the picture of nonchalance. 

And then there was Bosley, flanked by two of your fellow Angels each with guns at the ready, whom, upon taking in the scene, had their guns pointed at Hodak. The assassin looked at the pair as though he thought the threat was adorable and felt no fear at their presence.

Bosley had given Hodak a cursory glance before taking you in, an expression equal parts concern and amusement crossing his older face, “You seem to have gotten into quite the mess this time, Y/N.”

You smiled back fondly, boy was he ever right. You then stood, wincing at the pain in standing on your bad leg again. Bosley, eagle-eyed as ever, caught the reaction, “What’s wrong?”

“Dislocated my knee,” you answered, your gaze flickering back to Hodak, “we popped it back into place.”

Bosley just nodded, before looking around the vault again, “and the nuke?”

“Disabled,” you tilted your head in the direction of the briefcase on the floor in the back corner.

“Good girl,” Bosley said warmly, pride lighting up his features. Bosleys weren’t supposed to have favorites but you’d long suspected that you were one of his. Then he was back to business, “Alright, we’ll get that nuke cleared by our experts and get you checked out.”

He stepped toward you now but was instinctively keeping out of Hodak’s reach. It almost seemed as though he was making a point to not address the assassin elephant in the room as he extended his arm to help steady you. You made to follow his lead but you couldn’t help but look back to Hodak, who was studying Bosley with that familiar intense, meticulous air to him. You wanted to ask Boz about what would happen to him, wanted so much for things to be different but couldn’t figure out how to word any of it without sounding foolish.

Bosley seemed to understand you anyway and said, “we’ll be taking Mr. Hodak into custody and get him sorted. Now, let’s go get you taken care of.”

You had no idea how one would begin sorting a man like Hodak, but you believed in Bosley. Despite your unease at the whole situation, you trusted Bosley could handle it. You took Bosley’s arm then, wanting to feel even an ounce of his surety right then and allowed Bosley to begin leading you out as the two Angels came forward with cuffs to secure Hodak. Hodak still hadn’t moved and didn’t seem concerned at the slightest. Like the two women were servers at a restaurant and had just given him a menu instead of being extremely capable lady spies with restraints.

Just as you and Bosley had reached the door to the vault, you looked back at Hodak.

He smirked confidently at you, before saying once more, not a trace of worry in his demeanor, “Be seeing you.”

You felt a ghost of a smile at your lips before you answered, despite having no real grasp on what he could mean by that, “Until then.”

And then you continued your limping progress away from the most complicated and sexy man you had ever met.

It wasn’t until that night, when you were in your bed at the safe house, your knee in a splint, and pain meds working their way through your veins did you remember: You had never told Bosley Hodak’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hee hee. I hope you guys like it! And...as you might suspect, I have a few more ideas that would follow this. I can’t guarantee anything quickly but I’m not done with our dear Mr. Hodak yet. I’m just trying to decide if I want to make them further chapters for this fic or leave these three chapters as one fic, and just add future endeavors as separate oneshots in the same collection. What do y’all want? One continuous fic or a collection?  
> What did you think of this conclusion? I tried a sort of blend of smut like the first chapter and plot like the second for this chapter and I’m personally pleased with how it turned out, but please let me know what y’all think and if you’d have any interest for more!


	4. the Angel's Descent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to take the opportunity to thank all of you who left comments on the last chapter. You all are so kind and reminded me that people were still reading and that really helped me push through my writer’s block to keep going. So this chapter goes out to all my Hodak fans but especially to mystical_reign, Dan211, Reverie29, Lauren, Empress_of_Plotbunnies, Doctor_Smith, Callan Langham, SINNI3, KaitlynEh, gillz114, and lolitsme. You all are awesome and I thank y’all for validating my Hodak obsession. XD

You should have known that things wouldn’t return to normal after Hodak, but a small part of you hoped that it would be some kind of fluke. That you could return to work and feel satisfied with what you were doing. But, of course, things weren’t that simple.

All designs on normalcy were thrown out the window when one of the Townsend Agency doctors ordered you to three weeks medical leave and off your feet as much as possible with a further three weeks after that of desk duty until you were ruled healed enough to return to fieldwork.

You were one of the few Angels that tried to maintain a permanent residence away from the Agency. You’d wanted some things to just be yours but unfortunately, you’d never had the time to invest in making it your own. All you had to show for your determination for a separation between home and work was the lack of meaningful friendships with any of the Angels and a dozen uncompleted projects scattered about your apartment.

Here you were in your boring white apartment with cans of paint in the corner of your dining room since you never had found the time to paint. You had a collection of art that was left to forlornly lean against the walls in your storage closet since you’d been waiting to hang them until after you had painted. What nicknacks you had were still in a box on a bookshelf because they were meant to sit on a floating shelf which, big surprise, you hadn’t hung since your walls still weren’t painted. There was a kind of cruel irony in that you now finally had the time but couldn’t physically accomplish any of these tasks. It was a study in madness.

Bosley had done his part to try to alleviate the monotony and would bring over dinner and wine each evening. Somewhere over the last few years, you’d begun to think of him as perhaps your only real friend. As such, your first instinct was to talk to him about Hodak but at the same time it felt private and you were still twisted up in knots thinking about how much you’d started to waver about staying with the Agency while talking with Hodak. 

Even though Bosley was the reason why you stayed, you felt guilty for thinking of leaving. When going over the details of that mission, you tried to be discreet but truthful. You didn’t tell Bosley exactly what transpired between you and Hodak but he wasn’t an idiot. As far as he was concerned you were a grown woman and you’d gotten the job done. What did it matter if you’d had a little fun along the way?

You’d long appreciated that Bosley was always straight with you and yet, for that first week after the mission, it seemed you couldn’t get a straight answer about Hodak. You knew that very little good could come out of you knowing where Hodak was but you couldn’t shake your curiosity. Yet, despite your hints and queries, Bosley remained obtuse. He’d change the subject or be cryptic when you brought it up and it was beginning to drive you crazy.

At the end of that first week, you had made up your mind that you were finally going to outright ask him about the assassin. You had it all set, you’d strike when Bosley was on his 2nd glass of wine and nice and relaxed. But before he was even halfway through his first glass at dinner, Bosley had surprised you by announcing that he was going to be away for a while. He suspected that the new Charlie was trying to edge him out. For the last few months you’d heard him mention several times that while most of the other Bosleys were still perfectly complimentary, they'd begun to talk about him like he was an outdated relic and not the razor-sharp and still invaluable resource that he was. You’d been glad that he could talk to you about this sort of thing because it made you feel less alone in your growing feelings of alienation. If the very first Bosley could feel that way and choose to share that with you, then maybe you weren’t so out of place as you felt.

Only now Bosley felt like he was running out of time before he was forced to step down and he still had some loose ends he wanted to tie up before then. As nice as it had been to have him give you some company in your recovery, you knew he had more pressing matters to attend to and you didn’t want to keep him from it. 

It wasn’t until he’d been gone for a couple of days that you realized he’d managed to slip away without giving away anything concrete on Hodak and you were almost certain he’d done so on purpose. You were also positive that you’d become more paranoid. Suspecting Bosley of purposefully keeping things from you just wasn’t something that had ever crossed your mind before. But you couldn’t deny that something was off. Maybe it was because this was the first time you’d been laid up for more than a couple days and maybe you were getting stir-crazy and lonely and your particularly steamy memories of Hodak were not doing much to help you in your solitude other than make you feel sexually frustrated. 

Unfortunately, even when you were able to return to work two weeks later, things still weren’t back to normal. You felt ill-suited for the tasks assigned to you. It was all crucial background and research but it didn’t make you feel alive. You longed to be back in action but your knee still ached and you hadn’t gotten full mobility back. While none of the angels had exactly been your bosom buddies before, you couldn’t help but feel disconnected from them like there was some distance between you that you didn’t notice before your mission with Hodak.

All of this was just made worse by the fact that Bosley was still gone. You’d received a couple continued well wishes from him but either whatever he was doing was top-secret or kept him busy because you never seemed to be able to get him on the phone or get more than short replies. If you were being honest, his behavior worried you. It just made everything you were dealing with worse.

When you’d been doing desk work for two weeks and hadn’t had any real word from Bosley for three you tried to do some digging into what happened to Hodak on your own. The search in the internal system had returned strange results. The first time you tried to find the file, it said you didn’t have the clearance- which was ridiculous. The Agency wasn’t like a regular law enforcement agency where things were classified for national security and such. You’d never seen any message like this before. When you searched again two days later, there was nothing, not even your own mission reports. Thinking that maybe the server was having an issue, you brought the anomaly up to a tech services Angel. Unfortunately, she was one of the bitchier Angels who acted like you were an idiot and just assumed it was your fault. As if you were too stupid to find your own reports or that you’d filed or coded them wrong. As if you would ever make a rookie mistake like that. Normally you’d just ask Bosley for his advice but that didn’t feel like an option right now. You didn’t know what to do next and you hated that feeling. 

You didn’t see Bosley again until the day your doctor cleared you for active duty; a full six weeks since that fateful day in the vault. It felt as if this ruling had somehow summoned him. You found it too coincidental to be excited by his return. You knew you should have been very happy to have your friend back but after he had left you alone to put up with four weeks of cloying pity, disdain, and judgment all on your own, you were more than a little annoyed at his picture-perfect timing.

It was irrational and petty but your patience was a little too thin these days to properly care about that. Even if Bosley had off been discovering the cure for cancer, the least he could have done was call every once in a while or even pick up the phone so you could bitch about it. He hadn’t even texted to say he was coming back, instead, he just popped into the office you had been using while on modified assignment and offered to help you pack up your things before taking you to dinner.  The offer was tempting but you were still miffed so you claimed other plans and brushed him off.

You really should have known that Bosley wouldn’t let it go, but considering all the time he’d been gone, you were a little hurt and had begun to wonder if you’d just made up your friendship to make yourself feel better. Yet, despite your doubts, he had shown up at your apartment two hours later with wine, dinner, and your favorite French macarons. You’d let him in, if for no other reason than the macarons.

“I understand that you are probably unhappy with me right now,” he started, as he followed you into your kitchen, setting the bag with the food and the wine on the counter as he did. He stayed on the other side of the peninsula as you got down a single wine glass and poured yourself some without any pretense of serving him.

You raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘ _ Probably’? _

He sighed, but not as if he was disappointed or surprised, more resigned. “I deserve that. Would you be willing to let me explain?”

You stared him down, appraising him. He did at least realize he’d done wrong and you supposed that counted for something. You didn’t like being mad at him, but more than that, you’d hated having to be alone with all this even more. But you didn’t say any of that, instead continuing to glare at him silently.

“If nothing else, can we at least be civil and sit down?” He asked, motioning behind him to the living room, “I’d hate to see you reinjure your knee after you worked so hard to heal it.”

A small part of you wanted to stay standing and physically hold your ground out of spite but the more practical part of you loathed the idea of prolonging your recovery by even a day and risk being ordered to bed-rest again. You gave him the smallest of nods and he gave you a smile in return as he went to sit in the old wing-backed chair he’d always favored. You took your wine glass and the box of macarons with you and sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. He regarded you with a mix of amusement and acceptance of your attitude towards him. You took a long gulp of wine before you got out a cookie.

“If you have something to say, I suggest you get it over with,” you replied coolly.

He didn’t speak right away though, which surprised you. He’d never been one to hesitate or beat around the bush. He was never in the habit of mincing words with you but, then again, he’d never made you feel alone before either so you didn’t know what to make of him these days.

He took another beat and then he began, “I know that you’re very frustrated with me right now Y/N, and I completely deserve that. You have every right to be cross with me but it is important that you know, I didn't do any of this lightly. The truth is that certain things have been set into motion at the Townsend Agency which will affect both of our futures and I had to do what was necessary to try to forge a better one for me at least, but perhaps for you as well.”

A peculiar feeling was building within you as he spoke. You weren’t sure entirely what you had expected when he’d shown up tonight but it hadn’t been anything like this. When you’d sat down you’d resolved not to say anything unless he somehow found a way to earn your forgiveness, but he wasn’t anywhere near the script of what you’d expected.

“Bosley, what are you talking about?”

“I’m leaving the Townsend Agency . ” He said it calmly like he hadn’t just dropped a massive bombshell.

You gaped at him, trying to not let your bitter disappoint overwhelm you. He was supposed to explain why he’d left and apologize, not leave you for good.

“You’re leaving? What? Why?” You spluttered.

He sighed and at least didn’t seem to be any happier about the situation than you were when he said, “I’m afraid that the new Charlie has finally decided it’s officially time for me to retire. Charlie has ‘graciously’ given me six months to get my affairs in order.”

He said graciously like it was a curse and the whole situation made your stomach turn. That was absurd. He was Bosley. Not  _ a _ Bosley,  _ the _ Bosley. The original, the one who’d helped Charles Townsend not only start but expand and grow the Townsend Agency into the vast network it is now. The Agency wouldn’t be what it is without John Bosley and they wanted him to retire? What on earth did Charlie expect him to do now? Play golf? Pinochle? Take up gardening? That wasn’t Bosley anymore than you were a desk agent. Shocked, you temporarily forgot how angry you had been.

“That’s bullshit,” you finally said, your cookie forgotten in your lap.

He let out a quick bark of laughter, “I couldn’t agree more, my dear, which is why I’ve been making plans of my own.”

“What kind of plans?” You asked, trying to focus on what he was saying and not jump to conclusions or dwell in sadness.

“I’m forming an agency with different goals and a different client base,” he answered, and then with a sort of wicked twinkle in his eyes he added, “and I want you to join me.”

At that, you immediately sat up straighter, meeting his eyes in surprise, “Really?”

“Of course,” he leaned forward, “you are one of the best Angels I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with and I’d be remiss if I didn’t try to tempt you to come with me.”

You knew now was the chance to ask further questions, to figure out exactly what had happened between Bosley and Charlie and learn more about the future he was proposing but you were just so stunned. It felt like your brain was still buffering and hadn’t fully processed what he’d said.

Luckily, Bosley knew you and seemed to understand what you needed and just continued his pitch, “I know that you’ve tried to make a life for yourself here, have tried to be your own person separate from the Agency, and I want to respect that. I want you to have all that you want and more. But, I have to ask, are you getting what you want from where you are? Do you feel like you are reaching your potential and are truly happy here?”

You looked down, feeling like he’d somehow been reading your thoughts from the past month. You didn’t say anything at first, simply studied the pretty cookie in your lap, the cookie that was your favorite color and flavor because Bosley knew you so well.

You sighed and put the delectable cookie on the table. You then met Bosley’s gaze evenly, voicing a suspicion that you felt building beneath the surface. “I think you already know the answer to that question. That’s why you left me alone for so long, wasn’t it? So I could realize that too.”

He smiled, and if it was anyone else, you would have thought they would be a bit sheepish but not Bosley; his smile was full of pride and a tinge of admiration, “I’d hoped you would catch that. You truly are magnificently perceptive. And, to answer your question, that was part of it, yes. I know you and I make a great team and have done some good things but I didn’t want to sway your decision with whatever loyalty you feel for me. I want this to be your decision and yours alone based squarely on how you feel about your role in the Townsend Agency.”

“So you ignored me for a month so I’d have to realize I am a loner with no friends?” You asked, only slightly sarcastic.

“Only partly, though I believe you are selling yourself short. It’s not that you’re a loner it’s that you are unique. You see things differently than most of the others. They see things all in stark black and white. For an agency that operates outside of the law, they have a horrible predilection towards moral superiority, as if it’s never okay to color outside the lines as if wanting something for your own isn’t allowed. You are a marvel and they don’t see it. They don’t see that your brilliance shines best in the shades of gray you operate in.”

You suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion. He was right and you both knew it. You hadn’t realized it until your day with Hodak in the vault, but you didn’t fit in with the other Angels and you’d been wearing yourself down trying to. You were one of the best at what you did but listening to Bosley, you couldn’t help but wonder how much more you could be if you stopped trying so hard to fit the Perfect Angel mold. How much happier and more fulfilled you could be if you reached for your full potential if you didn’t exhaust yourself with following every rule and moral guideline? 

You also knew you wouldn’t have ever started thinking about anything like this if it weren’t for Hodak. Realizing this reminded you of the question Bosley didn’t answer before he left.

“Speaking of coloring outside the lines: I looked into where Hodak had ended up after you left.”

Bosley tilted his head in curiosity, his expression giving nothing away, “Did you now?”

“Yes,” You replied. His reaction now and his artful dodging last month was beginning to give you a certain idea, “A bit odd that he wasn’t anywhere in the Townsend files.”

“Odd indeed,” Bosley said with an innocent expression but you knew him too well, none of this was even the slightest bit surprising to Bosley. Not the fact that you’d looked into finding Hodak nor the fact that you didn’t find him. “Well, I’m sure we’ll run into him again soon. A clever man like that doesn’t seem the type to stay pinned down long.”

You couldn’t help the small grin that had made its way onto your face. There was no doubt that Bosley was being coy but you didn’t mind it as much this time. Not when he had such exciting plans for the two of you making your way separate from the confines of the Agency, not when it confirmed what you’d hoped for regarding the devilish assassin. It was right to you that he wasn’t locked away somewhere. And, if you knew Bosley and were interpreting things correctly, you weren’t the only one Bosley had plans for. 

You had many more questions on specifics and logistics but you knew Bosley would be more than happy to spend as long as you needed hashing things out and letting you in on his plans. He had only been evasive and vague before to protect you. He hadn’t wanted to get you in trouble with the agency if you had chosen to stay. He truly wanted what was best for you and how on earth could you possibly turn your back on an offer like that from your friend? This exciting new plan of his more than made up for the last month. You knew now Bosley had never abandoned you and were more than ready for whatever else he had up his sleeve.

“When do I start?” You asked with complete certainty.

-

You’d quit the Agency the next day and spent the next month with Bosley traveling the world and setting up his Shadow Agency: acquiring bases of operations and negotiating with future partners and clients. For the first time in a long time, you felt fulfilled and useful. It was gloriously freeing.

That first night Bosley had explained that his goal was to create a less morally bogged down alternative to the Agency. The jobs you’d be hired for would likely be more morally dubious than the work you’d done as an Angel but he made it clear that if you ever didn’t want to do a job, he wouldn’t force you and he trusted your judgment. He also began working on recruiting other agents but you got extreme pleasure from being the first. You helped him lure a couple of other Angels Bosley had admired into joining your ranks but he was very careful to not try to poach too much from the Agency. This was not only because the Angels could be closed-minded but also because he didn’t want to invite unwanted attention. You agreed. Even though you had not fit in, you still had a small fondness for it and how it used to make you feel back before you’d lost fellow Angels and struggled to connect with any others after that. You didn’t like the idea of going up against the Agency and wanted to avoid it at all costs.

Bosley was still wrapping things up with the Townsend Agency, he reasoned it would look more suspicious if he and several of the angels he’d worked with all left at once. Since Charlie had agreed to the 6 months before Bosley’s retirement, he was intent on taking full advantage and getting as much out of the Agency as he could during that time. These days you and Bosley talked on the phone at least once a day to coordinate your next step.

“I’ve been working on a trade with a potential partner and they’re looking to have a face-to-face tonight,” Bosley was saying now over the speaker as you were setting up your new office in the European base.

“Well lucky for them, I’ve got an opening tonight,” You replied after verifying your schedule, “Are they nearby?”

“Near enough,” he replied, “I’ll send the details to your phone. You shouldn’t go on this one alone though. Is Andre back from his assignment in Italy yet?”

You paused. Andre was one of Bosley’s latest recruits- a very large and intimidating man who often made his money as an enforcer, bouncer, and bodyguard. He was not the most surgical or refined but what his intimidation factor didn’t quell, his brute strength did. If Bosley thought Andre might be necessary, Bosley didn’t trust whoever this potential partner was.

“Last I heard he was still there,” you answered. “Are they that bad?”

“They’d like to think so but I’d rather hedge my bets. As capable as you are, I’d rather have the added insurance just in case.”

“You want me to call him?”

“No, I’ll take care of it,” he assured you. “I’ve sent you the briefing and tickets.”

“Tickets?” You asked.

You could practically hear Bosley smile over the phone, “Oh yes. You, my dear, are off to the opera. It’s a good thing I stocked up the closet last week. I recommend the lovely burgundy one. I’m sure you’ll look stunning.”

-

Three hours later you were ascending the large ornate main staircase of the opera house. You felt that familiar buzz of anticipation that you always felt before an op along with the slight niggling feeling you always got when someone was staring at you. You stopped at the top and turned around to survey the crowd below and around you. No one immediately stood out so you carried on while making a mental note. In all likelihood, someone was staring at you, if for no other reason than your dress.

You’d chosen a dress of dark red wine color, a burgundy that you appreciated for being sumptuous without being flashy. This skirt of this particular gown consisted of several overlapping layers of filmy chiffon that was longer in the back than the front. It was a breezy material that allowed a wide range of movement without sacrificing the flowing form. Intricate designs of shimmering jewels and embroidery across the bodice would be enough to draw attention to your bosom and distract most men. The dress had simple straps that draped off the shoulder and you felt both beautiful and powerful; a heady combination. Bosley truly had outstanding taste in fine dresses. 

Bosley’s message had said he’d have your back up meet you at the booth he’d secured for you. Technically, the meet up was after the opera was over in one of the VIP lounges but if you already had a ticket you could see no reason to not go and see the performance itself. Plus it would allow you to get a lay of the land in case of any surprises later.

When you texted Bosley that you’d arrived, you hadn’t expected a reply. You’d gotten used to running missions without him in your ear and yet your phone buzzed a moment later with a text from him.

_ Your backup is on the way. Remember to be careful. Thank you again for taking this job on such short notice. I’m sending a surprise to your box as a gesture of my gratitude for all your hard work. _

You smiled at that, imagining a bouquet of roses or a bottle of expensive champagne. Bosley’s thank you gifts were always spectacular.

After getting a thorough lay of the land and locating not only the VIP Lounge but also 10 different exit routes and a few other contingency plans, you finally made your way to your private box. Upon entering the box, you find yourself in a small antechamber separated from your seats and the balcony by a sumptuous red velvet curtain. Curiously though, you didn’t see the surprise that Bosley had mentioned. There was no bucket of ice with a ridiculously expensive and delicious bottle of champagne, nor were there any fragrant flowers or an envelope or anything. That was odd. Bosley was always good on his word and yet the box appeared to be empty.

You almost began to worry that you’d entered the wrong box when the curtain in front of you parted to reveal your back up.

Oh.

A surprise indeed. 

“I told you I’d be seeing you.”

After nearly two months, miraculously and improbably, here was Hodak looking dashing as hell in a black tuxedo with a maroon vest. Maroon, a color so close to the burgundy of your dress that you now understood why Bosley had specified this one. But more important than that, Hodak was here and your brain felt like it was short-circuiting. There was so much you’d wanted to say to him and yet you couldn’t rally a single coherent thought.

You found yourself walking to him as if magnetized before you finally said, “So you did.”

You couldn’t stop staring at him, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you either. His clever eyes were hungrily taking in every inch of you.

You had been right, Bosley’s gifts were always spectacular.

“You’re my backup,” You concluded, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening. Maybe if you did, you could calm the butterflies swarming in your chest.

He gave a slight incline of the head like a little bow of acknowledgment. 

“Bosley let you go after that day in the vault and erased you from the records.”

Instead of answering he gives you a pleased smile.

You fought the urge to sigh in reply, “Please tell me you’re not going back to the silent treatment, I thought we’d gotten past that.”

He lets out a quick wry chuckle before relenting, “Apologies. It’s a bit of a habit.”

You shook your head but were pleased he was willing to break it for you.

He surprised you further by adding, “I’m not used to anyone being worth the effort.”

You felt a shiver down your spine at that. It was such a simple statement to affect you like it did but it was how you could feel him mean it that struck you so strongly. You wanted to just melt and just really enjoy being with him again, but then the lights in the theater flickered indicating that the opera was about to start. Lest you lose what little remained of your composure, you motioned to the seats by the balcony, “Shall we?”

His expression was amused, but he said nothing as he followed your lead. The opera house was old but the seats were roomy and comfortable, unlike a lot of cheaper venues where you’d be packed in like sardines. And yet, as you eased yourself down, you felt Hodak’s hand slide over yours on the armrest between you and then, once seated, his knee bumped purposely into yours. You had the entire box to yourselves to spread out and yet it seemed like you weren’t the only one wanting to be close.

It all just felt so odd, like you were living a scene from someone else’s life. The last time you two had met, it had just happened so quickly. There had been flirting and fighting and fucking in very rapid succession. It was all a whirlwind with lots of tension and excitement. And then it was over and you were stuck in recovery limbo. Then even after joining Bosley and being so very busy starting your new network, you had still thought of him more often than was productive or helpful, and now here you both were again. Sure you’d danced at a gala once before but that had been full of power plays and feeling the other out literally and figuratively. This was different in that it felt both sophisticated and domestic all at once. When you’d thought of reuniting with Hodak over the last while, you hadn’t pictured anything normal like dating or going to the theater together. 

You were at war with yourself, half of you just wanted to screw decorum and climb into his lap and just ride him like there is no tomorrow but at the same time, even though your box was private, you were still visible to the other boxes on this level, including the one reserved for Bosley’s contact and you didn’t exactly want to give them an opportunity to catch you in a decidedly compromised position.

You remembered being excited to see the opera only 15 minutes ago and now, with his knee resting against yours coupled with the knowledge you were in the same room again, you couldn’t even remember the name of the production. The lights went down and you had to remind yourself to breathe. This was going to be a very long performance.

Ten minutes in and all you had been able to absorb was that people were singing and an orchestra was playing. Of course, it didn’t help that it wasn’t in English. You then decided that the most effective strategy for not giving up on all attempts of public decency was to focus on first translating the exaggerated diction of the lyrics from French to English. And that helped...for a time.

Then, just when you’d figured out how to cope with that he began ever so slowly brushing his fingers against yours on the armrest. He wasn’t even trying to play fair. There was no doubt in your mind that he knew exactly what effect he was having on you and how hard you were trying to resist. He was only touching you with just the tip of his fingers and yet you knew so well what he could do with his fingers and his tongue and, oh hell, his everything. It was torture to try to focus and pretend like memories of him fucking you so magnificently hadn’t filled your dreams most nights; like you hadn’t been craving an encore.

He knew what you were thinking and damn him, he was taking full advantage. Just as you’d decided that maybe you should try translating the opera into Italian for even more of a challenge, his hand moved to run up and down your forearm. He wasn’t even trying to behave himself. You kept your eyes fixed very pointedly on the stage. His fingers just kept teasing back and forth as casual as anything.

Then he finally pulled back and you had to resist the urge to let out a sigh of relief. You really should have known he wouldn’t give up that easily. Less than a minute later, you felt a light touch on your leg. You looked down to see him taking advantage of your dress’s design of having shorter material in the front. You saw him ever so slowly, pushing back the filmy material to expose your thighs.

You knew what you should do: pull your dress back down and then go sit in one of the other seats in the row, or even better, go and jump in the nic fountain in the lobby to cool yourself down but after everything that had happened, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to leave or move away from him. You’d learned a lot of restraint and self-control with the agency but this was one thing you couldn’t bring yourself to do.

He could read you so well, he was so frighteningly good at that and now he could sense your resolve to resist crumbling to nothing as he moved his feather-light touch higher and higher up your thighs showing no signs of stopping. Modesty be damned, you didn’t have the strength or will to stop him, not after so long. And with that, you finally gave up on the opera entirely as you pulled your eyes slowly from the stage to look at him for the first time since you’d sat down.

He wasn’t even pretending to pay attention to the drama unfolding down below. Instead, his eyes were fixed firmly on you. And damn, you’d forgotten just how good it felt to have him looking at you like nothing else mattered. That, if nothing else, vanquished your resolve. 

You sighed and then slowly, careful to maintain full eye contact with Hodak, you spread your legs. If you were going to fall, you might as well do it as thoroughly as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through so many revisions and I basically ended up rewriting half of it. I know this is a bit different and maybe less Hodak then you would like or were expecting but after arguing with myself and angsting about that for months I decided to trust my gut. This is the story I was wanting to tell. When I decided to continue this story after the first chapter and make it one of an Angel falling for Hodak and leaving the agency, I saw this really interesting potential for this bond with Bosley and I really wanted to explore that. I wanted to delve into what it might mean to leave the Agency and sort of set up/lay the groundwork for Hodak and Bosley working together in the movie since I was curious about that when I watched it. So while yes, first and foremost this a Hodak Sexy Times Fic, I’ve also enjoyed weaving my own plot through it and I can only hope you all like what I’m doing with it. The next chapter is definitely gonna have more Hodak Sexy Times though so don’t worry. Let me know what y'all thought of this! I hope it was worth the wait.


	5. Demonic Folly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your eyes do not deceive you! I am back with more smutty Hodak goodness! And while I am still fueled by my passion for Hodak and determination to provide more Hodak content to the vacuum, this fic would not still be going if it weren’t for all of my wonderful readers here and on tumblr. When it takes me a while to update and I’m afraid my readers have given up on me, you guys remind me why I love writing this fic. You have consistently kept me fired up about writing this by making me feel like I'm not just shouting to the abyss and that I’m not the only one who loves Hodak. You have encouraged and supported me so much and I cherish each and every comment and message I receive. This chapter most whole-heartedly goes out to you. Thank you for sticking with me! Now onto the smut- i mean chapter!

_He wasn’t even pretending to pay attention to the drama unfolding down below. Instead, his eyes were fixed firmly on you. And damn, you’d forgotten just how good it felt to have him looking at you like nothing else mattered. That, if nothing else, vanquished your resolve._

_You sighed and then slowly, careful to maintain full eye contact with Hodak, you spread your legs. If you were going to fall, you might as well do it as thoroughly as possible._

Hodak’s answering grin was a reward all on its own as his fingers danced up your thighs slowly and methodically. He could have gone straight for the prize and yet his tattooed hands continued their teasing as he made small circles on your inner thigh. You could see now that even though you’d both waited so long, he wanted to stretch this as long as he could for maximum effect.

You were reasonably sure he wouldn’t take the entire opera to get to the point but you also knew he liked to take the time to get things right. Just in case, you leaned back to settle in, but in the hopes of speeding up the process, you pulled the skirt of your dress farther up and out of his way. To your delight, he took the hint and you felt his probing fingers graze the surface of your underwear.

You wanted him to move it aside and get on with it but that wasn’t his way. Instead, his hand ghosted along the outside, feeling you through the thin fabric. He circled your pussy, coming closer and closer to where you wanted him in time with the music from the orchestra. You could feel yourself getting more and more aroused as he let the anticipation build.

Just when you were nearly desperate enough to try to seek relief from your own fingers, you met his eyes once more. You weren’t ready to beg but you tried to communicate with your expression that you _needed_ more. Thankfully, he got the message and ceased his circling to stroke your entrance through your panties.

You took in a satisfied breath. He stroked again, harder this time and you could feel your arousal dampen the material. He pressed harder, flexing his fingers as he did so, providing surprising but welcome friction to your clit and soaking your underwear even more.

He had been staring at your face, taking in every microexpression but at that, he looked down for the first time and saw the wetness. He pressed even farther, and lord help you, it took more strength than you thought it should not to audibly moan. There was no way you were going to get out of this encounter silently but you knew it was far from over and you needed to last as long as you could. 

This clear sign of your arousal seemed to help spur Hodak into action and now he pinched your pussy lips through the wetness and began to rub and squeeze ever so slightly, using the material to generate more friction right where you needed it. He continued this treatment until once again returning to rub your clit specifically. Your legs were spread as far as they could go given the armrests and your dress but you felt yourself trying to spread farther. You wanted him to have access to every part of you.

Hodak moved his hand up to the waistband and grabbed the material as firmly as he could and tugged, causing your soaked panties to rub against your sensitive nub in such an unexpected but marvelous way. The move shouldn’t have worked but Hodak clearly knew what he was doing as he pulled at it again, shifting the direction each time. Lord help you with what this man could do with his fingers.

Then, just as the music below reached a crescendo, his fingers went back down and found the edge before pushing your underwear aside. There you were in an elite opera box, surrounded by the rich and powerful with your pussy bare but just out of view of everyone but Hodak. You could see the orchestra, the performers on stage, and the whole of the audience in the theater but they paid you no mind. You should have felt embarrassed at the idea of Hodak fingering you in such a public place but, just like with your make out in the elevator all those months ago, you felt a thrill. There was something deliciously taboo about being able to see all of these people and none of them knowing that the sexiest and most dangerous man you have ever met was stroking your soaking wet folds with such intense attention and care.

With your underwear finally out of the way, you had been almost worried that he would begin his teasing anew but instead, he went straight to the business of pleasuring your clit. He pinched and rubbed it together before pressing tight little circles on your mound. You couldn’t help the way your legs shook and twitched at his attentions, reveling in feeling a coil of tension building within you. His fingers were insistent and tireless as he worked your nub until you came in the quietest of shaking breaths you could muster, grateful that another song had begun in full vigor.

Just as you were beginning to come down and untense, Hodak slipped one of his wicked fingers into your heat. You had just begun to relax after your release but the sudden insertion had you straightening in surprise as he finally succeeded in wresting a gasp from you. You found yourself gripping the armrests for strength. Quiet as it had been, you were still quite taken by your last come but it seemed that after all your time apart, Hodak would not be satisfied with just one orgasm from you. 

After his initial forceful plunge, Hodak’s fingers slowed to a smoother pace. Fortunately, your orgasm had more than lubricated you for him. His finger made careful strokes within your core and though it wasn’t in the same way you’d been dreaming of, it felt so good to have him in you again and you couldn’t wait until this mission was over so that you could take all of him into your heat in proper fashion.

Now that he’d made you come once, Hodak seemed content to take his time. You had no idea how long he moved his finger within you, it seemed as if several songs had begun and ended, but your world had shrunk down to just your box, just the incredible man beside you pleasuring you slowly and precisely as only he knew how. He’d add and take away fingers and attend to your clit as he saw fit. You had become putty in his hands. The tension would build and fall away in time with the music. A couple of times you felt as if it was too much, gripping the armrest tightly, your breathing hitching but then Hodak would back off. He wanted this next time to be truly memorable as if to make up for lost time.

The music was building again and you too felt yourself rising towards something grand as he added a third finger to your tight, wet pussy. And then, as the drums beat out an insistent staccato, he began to pump harder and harder within you. You tried so hard to control your body but you wanted to spasm under his force. You made yourself stay as controlled as possible even as you felt something indescribable building within you.

Then he was pumping up and at an angle to hit your g-spot and you felt your control slipping away. You couldn’t get enough air and he still kept going and going and going until the music hit its loudest crescendo. When the full chorus belted out a resounding note all at once, you came with a shout you just couldn’t keep in anymore.

You’d kept scanning the audience right up until you came, sure that somebody would notice the fact that you were having a mind-blowing orgasm, and yet, not an eye was turned in your direction. It had only served to turn you on even further as Hodak continued to pump into you until you rode it out. Your chest heaving, Hodak finally removed his fingers. You felt wrung out and yet, looking about, no one had even noticed. 

Miraculously, you’d gotten away with it. Spent and shaking as you were, you’d felt a temptation to see just how far you two could take things. Hodak, however, seemed content, at last, to keep his hands to himself, instinctively knowing the line of just how far he could push your endurance while still keeping you from breaking. You had half a mind to reach over and push his limits in return but by the time you’d regained enough composure to think about attempting it, the last song met its dramatic conclusion and the curtains came down for intermission to the thunderous applause of the audience.

Still high on the experience, you shakily made sure your underwear was back in place before you stood and quickly pushed through to the privacy of the curtained antechamber. As you felt more than saw Hodak follow you, you had half a mind to take him against the wall right then and there despite no longer having the cover of the opera’s orchestra to muffle you. Clinging to the last remnants of restraint you had left, you retrieved your phone from your clutch, desperate for anything you could do to occupy your hands. Your phone provided the exact distraction you needed in the form of a text from Bosley.

Hodak had started for the door when you put a hand on his arm and said, “Something’s up.”

He raised a confused eyebrow, and you showed him Bosley’s message which read: 

_Change of plans. Call me._

You wordlessly hit the dial button and pulled your phone up between the two of you. Hodak didn’t say anything, but you could feel him shifting into high alert mode. His eyes instinctively going to the parted curtains and scanning what he could see as if waiting for a trap to spring.

Bosley picked up on the second ring.

“What’s up?” you asked automatically.

“Twenty minutes ago my contact, Dubois, reached out to me to change the location.” 

You couldn’t see John’s face but you could feel his disapproving frown from the other end of the line.

You paused. The whole point of a meeting like this was to set up protocols in neutral territory as you got to know each other. The idea of switching things up so late in the game was incredibly suspicious and very rarely led to anything but a double-cross. A fact all three of you were acutely aware of.

This whole thing had a stink to it but you wanted to at least get a full picture before you made your decision. “What is it you are hoping to get from him?”

“Mr. Dubois has connections within certain European governments that put him in the position to buy and steal classified technologies under the radar. He contacted me this week claiming to have a prototype with the latest in encryption and decryption software. He’d said he wanted to initiate negotiations on price tonight ahead of its arrival from his contact next week. When he contacted me just now he said his contact arrived tonight ahead of schedule but that you had to make the trade tonight before his contact departed in the morning.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse if I’ve ever heard one,” you remarked with a shake of your head.

“Agreed,” Bosley said.

You asked, “and what is it that he wants?”

You heard Bosley sigh. “Information but I’ll be honest with you: I don’t like the feeling I’m getting from this and I’m beginning to question if their resources are worth the risk.”

You thought on that and both men gave you space to do so which you appreciated more than you could say. They were both extremely proficient and capable and yet they were leaving the decision up to you. Bosley had always trusted your judgement and since you were the one who would be in danger if this Dubois wasn’t on the up-and-up, Bosley didn’t pretend like it was his place to make the call. He’d give you whatever information you needed to make your decision but it would ultimately be up to you.

Finally you said, “Would his tech help us move our network forward?”

There was silence before Bosley answered, “It would but if you aren’t sure you want to do this, we’ll find another way to get it.”

You nodded though he couldn’t see you and met Hodak’s gaze, arching a brow to him in silent question. Just like Bosley, you didn’t want to force Hodak to do anything he didn’t want to. He gave you a nod and a small smirk and you knew, in his own way, he was telling you he would agree with whatever choice you made.

And, that, more than anything, decided it for you. You were likely walking into a trap but, you weren’t walking in blind and, most importantly, you weren’t walking in alone. You’d seen Hodak in action before and even before you were technically on the same side, he’d still protected you and you had the utmost faith that he wouldn’t let you down. 

“I’ll do it,” you then said with confidence, “text me the address.”

“You know you don’t have to,” Bosley reminded you but you could hear that familiar fondness in his voice. “He’s acting like he’s plotting a doublecross and I don’t want you to feel like you have to put yourself in danger for the sake of professional advantage. I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind.”

“I appreciate that Bos,” you finally said, your eyes locked with Hodak. “I really do, but I know we can handle it. Besides, if they are foolish enough to pull a stunt like this on our first date, I want to make sure they are held accountable for that mistake.”

You heard a pleased chuckle from the phone, “If anyone can, it’s you two. I’ll send you everything you need. Good luck.”

-

The new location was at a warehouse by the docks. You and Hodak had decided to arrive a few blocks away from the location Dubois had sent Bosley. It was best to muster up before plunging into the fray. If you came the long way around, you’d be better able to spot any potential traps or any unexpected parties around the perimeter.

You parked in an abandoned garage to better hide your approach. As you got out of the car you thought that Dubois hardly could have picked a better location for a sketchy rendezvous. There were so many dark alleys and buildings and side streets in this district that would make it so easy to be ambushed. You and Hodak met at the trunk for supplies.

Annoyingly Dubois had insisted on no weapons and while you were certain he wouldn’t hold up his end, there was little point in giving him an excuse to call things off. So instead you’d bring weapons to clear the perimeter and then enter the appointed warehouse unarmed. Besides, you and Hodak were dangerous all on your own. Guns and knives might have expedited things but it wasn’t worth risking it. 

You hit the catch inside the trunk to reveal the small portable armory and tech you kept in your trunk. It was a real shame you couldn’t come into the meet guns blazing, you’d just have to be more creative if it came to a fight. So you’d rely on tranq guns for the perimeter sweep and leave the rest behind. Instead of loading up, you had to attend to your first order of business: a change of clothes.

One thing you’d learned from your time with the Angels was that fashion had its time and place but a change of clothes was always helpful. With no hesitation, you kicked off your heels and slipped on a pair of black pants underneath the skirt of your gown.

You’d turned your back to Hodak to shimmy the pants on but now you looked over your shoulder at him with a brazen grin, “Unzip me?”

The look he gave you was somewhere between bemusement and lasciviousness- as if it was funny you even had to ask but also that he very much wanted to fuck you right there and then against the car and forget the mission. One of his hands dutifully pulled on the zipper while the other ghosted down the length of your spine. Your resulting shiver had nothing to do with the cold night air. When he finished, he pulled the dress down so it fell off your shoulders and landed on the grimy cement below.

Before you could turn around, you felt his breath at your neck as you heard him whisper in your ear, “Last chance to change your mind.” 

He said it so simply and yet, you knew everything he didn’t say. He would follow your lead even into hell but if you wanted to forget all this and go find a private place or even another not-so-private place to fuck each other’s brains out, he would be on board for that too. He trusted your judgment and discretion but he wanted to make sure that you weren’t taking on this uncertain mission just because you felt it was what you should do, but instead because you wanted to.

You took a deep stabilizing breath as you turned around and met his devilish gaze full on. You appreciated that even though there you stood in just your pants and strapless bra, he kept his eyes on yours, caring more about connecting with you than the chance to ogle your breasts. A very strong part of you was begging you to let him take you again right then and there but a louder part was demanding that you make Dubois pay for his blatant disrespect and presumption. 

So instead you grabbed the black top from the trunk and pulled it over your head before meeting his gaze once more, “I’m good. Let’s get this over with.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said and that was it. His agreement felt so grounding that you couldn’t help but revel in the feeling of having a real partner for once.

\---

Of course it was a fucking set up. Bosley had known it, Hodak had known it, and you’d known it the moment you heard about the change. Unfortunately, foreknowledge didn’t make what followed any more enjoyable.

Still, as irritating as it was to have to comb through and silently take out snipers and goons lurking in the surrounding buildings and upper perches of the warehouse before the rendezvous, it was also an affirmation from the universe to always trust your instincts. You were glad that Bosley had negotiated for more time before the meeting because you needed every minute to keep what was supposed to be a simple negotiation from becoming an utter ambush. You and Hodak had done your best to be as quiet and subtle as you could. No doubt, Dubois still had a squad of goons waiting with him but you did what you could to level the playing field without raising suspicions.

It was all very frustrating but at the appointed time, when you and Hodak had swung back around to the main and expected entrance to the warehouse you had to get what pleasure you could out of knowing that Dubois was down at least a dozen guys and didn’t even know it. He may have heard of your prowess or Bosley’s reputation based on the amount of back up he’d brought but you figured he’d had no expectation at all that you could possibly win. You were only a woman after all and Hodak had been too late of an addition for Dubois to have known to prepare for a man of his skill.

Dubois wasn’t a particularly imposing figure either. He seemed more the type to rely upon machinations and money to make his way in the world. Physically he was of average height with a narrow face. You didn’t doubt that there were circles in which you could see him being perceived as attractive but the smug set to his mouth completely ruined the effect for you. Confidence, when it was earned, could be attractive- Hodak had proved that- but, by your account, Dubois had done nothing to warrant such self-satisfaction.

Dubois stood about 60 feet from the door making you and Hodak walk across the expanse to meet him. You could only see four other men with him but with all the crates and shipping containers throughout this section of the warehouse, you could feel there were more that you couldn't see, though thanks to your foresight, there were far less than Dubois believed.

When you were about 15 feet away from him, one of the men at his side came forward with a hand-held metal detector to scan for weapons. You and Hodak submitted to it without comment but, of course, Dubois and his men didn’t scan themselves for your benefit. At this point, Dubois had already revealed the strength of his character many times over and you had no doubt hypocrisy was another of his defects. You’d honestly be more surprised if he wasn’t packing.

Abandoning all vestiges of civility, he didn't even bother introducing himself, so self-assured and arrogant he was in his cowardly plan.

If he wasn’t going to even make a show at manners, you saw no reason to either, skipping straight to business, “Do you have the software?”

The taller man next to Dubois started to speak, “Yes, it’s-”

But Dubois cut him off quickly, instead saying, “It's close by.”

You looked to the taller man for a moment, having seen a flicker of reasoning in him before Dubois stopped him. Shame, it didn’t look like reasonable would be on the menu as long as Dubois was at the table. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and cross your arms, you had to be impassive. Men like Dubois didn’t often deal well with women expressing emotion that wasn’t pure adoration.

“What information did you want in exchange for it?” You asked, already exhausted by his attitude.

“Nothing you’re going to have to worry about,” he said dismissively before he turned his back to you and raised one hand, shouting, “Now.”

Men emerged from behind boxes and shelves all around you and Hodak. The only thing about this turn of events that surprised you was how little interest Dubois had shown in even the pretense of negotiation and good business sense. The time was finally at hand to focus on making it through this fight so you could make him regret underestimating you.

As at least a dozen men advanced on you, it struck you that, if nothing else, Dubois had really done his best to hedge his bets by numbers alone. Luckily for you, even including the men you and Hodak had already dispatched, his estimation of your skill was still off. You didn’t know whether to be more insulted at his double-cross or flattered that he’d recruited two dozen men for tonight’s purpose. That’s not to say that it was an easy fight. Twelve against two wasn’t the best odds but you’d been up against worse during your time as an angel and that was without Hodak on your side.

You were pretty sure that you were going to get out of this but one thing you learned was to never assume you had the upper hand. You knew that the moment you decided you couldn’t lose was the moment you did. You’d seen more proficient fighters taken down by getting cocky. You couldn’t afford any mistakes tonight with these odds. 

You and Hodak had silently split the dozen between you but you were sure to keep all of your senses on high alert in case of any surprises. You couldn’t devote much attention to Hodak’s progress but from what you gleaned from the periphery you could tell Hodak was holding his own quite well. Meanwhile, you tore through the first three in a rage, using your anger as an anchor and a motivator. 

The goons you’d already taken out before meeting Dubois weren’t exceptionally skilled but it seemed as though Dubois had had the sense to keep those who were closer at hand. Of course, it didn’t help that you weren’t completely fresh in this fight. The hardest part was to keep moving and striking to keep your three remaining attackers from boxing you in or coming at you from your blind spots. It was exhausting and they definitely got in a few shots but you gave even more than you got, keeping up a rotation of blows to keep them all from charging at once. Based on their size and skill, it would be all too easy for them to overcome you, you just had to keep moving. You still felt a kind of energy that you couldn’t explain and you couldn’t help but think that perhaps Hodak was proving to be both incentive and encouragement. You weren’t alone in this fight quite literally and that fact seemed to bolster you.

After breaking the nose of one of your remaining assailants and knocking another off his feet, the third decided to overcompensate and come at you kicking, forcing you to retreat. You tensed immediately though when your back hit something solid, worried that you might have just backed right into one of the other men Hodak was fighting. A quick look back, however, quelled your fears. You saw a glimpse of the tattoos on Hodak’s neck and just the glimmer of a reassuring smirk from him before you both turned back to your respective combatants. There was something very alluring and attractive about fighting beside a popper partner who could hold his own.

Comforted by Hodak’s presence, you surged forward and launched yourself at the man who’d just kicked at you. Wrapping your legs around his torso, you were able to effectively trap his arms at his side so he couldn’t pry you off. Squeezing with your legs to increase your stability, you caught his head in a tight chokehold. He stumbled backward as you cut off his oxygen supply, unintentionally carrying you out of range of his fellows as he did so. Like a bull trying to dislodge its rider, he tried to shake you loose, but you held on even tighter- this wasn’t your first rodeo after all. Finally, you felt him go still as he passed out, careful to jump off just before he fell. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder and identified it as hostile from its grip. Not wanting to waste any time by looking back, you launched into action. Grabbing the hand, you pulled it forward before taking hold of his elbow and yanking as hard as you could as you leaned forward, deftly flipping the man over your shoulder. When he landed on his side in front of you saw it was the one whose nose you’d broken. You’d definitely winded him but for added insurance, you stomped right on his knee. He wouldn’t be joining the fight again tonight.

The final man was taller and had some weight on you but he seemed a little hesitant. It was likely his wariness stemmed from being the last man standing. In fights like these, however, it was important to take whatever advantage you could, and his hesitance wasn’t one you could afford to ignore. This time you went on the offensive and delivered a swift kick to his upper leg. The man immediately began to buckle as the blow caused the muscles in his thigh to go numb. As he tried to regain his balance, you followed up with a swift hit with the flat of your hand against his jaw.

The man tried to retaliate with a blind swing but, given his discombobulated state, you were able to stop his arm easily. It wasn’t pleasant but you had to do what you could to take him out of the fight as quickly as possible. Resigned, you then wrenched his arm at just the wrong angle until you heard a crack that meant you’d successfully broken his arm. The man groaned and when he fell, he didn’t get back up again, either unwilling or unable to continue the fight.

In case he changed his mind, you moved out of his physical range before looking around to check if anyone else was left. You were just in time to see Hodak take down the last of his attackers. You met his gaze briefly, and you both verified the other had not sustained any major injuries. Reassured with that you found, you turned simultaneously to see where Dubois had been hiding.

Dubois, spineless rat that he was, had tried to keep back from the fighting but as the number of men left standing had continued to dwindle, he’d clearly begun to realize the mistake he had made. You could see the fear in Dubois’s eyes as the two of you advanced on him. Panicking, he reached behind him and retrieved a gun from his belt. It had been the height of arrogance and stupidity for him to not have used it on you when he had the chance but either he hadn’t been able to imagine he could lose or he was counting on the backup you’d already eliminated to come to his rescue before it got to this point. 

In any case, Hodak was able to wrench it from his grasp before Dubois could do any damage. For good measure, Hodak took hold of his wrist and twisted it behind Dubois, forcing the foolish man to his knees with a yelp of pain. Hodak then released his arm in favor of holding Dubois’s own gun to his temple. As far as you were concerned, the man deserved far worse for the stunt he’d just tried to pull, and relatively speaking, things could have gone far worse for him. True, you’d incapacitated all of his men but at least most of them were still breathing.

Alright, it was time for you to get to the bottom of this.

“Do you have any idea how stupid you just were, Mr. Dubois? If you weren’t happy with the original arrangement you made with Bosley, we would have been more than happy to negotiate. We could have forged a happy and long-lasting alliance. But instead, you got greedy and decided to try to strong-arm the situation.” As he stared daggers up at you, you couldn’t resist adding, “how’d that work out for you and your arm?”

As it was a rhetorical question you didn’t expect a response but you still wanted to know what the point was in attacking you. So you asked, “What was your plan anyway? How would taking us out help you get the information you were trying to trade for?” 

When Dubois didn’t answer, Hodak cracked him in the head with the gun once. Dubois cursed in French as he clutched the wound. Finally, he glared up at you and infused his voice with as much venom as he could muster given his position, “I wasn’t going to kill you, bitch.” 

You registered Hodak’s hand ever so slightly clenching around the gun as if resisting the urge to pistol-whip him again for the insult. You cast your gaze around the men laying prone around you as if the sheer volume of force Dubois had tried to employ said otherwise.

“Then what? Why go through all this?”

Dubois glared up at Hodak and you got the feeling that he knew Hodak wasn’t going to like what he was about to say, but he continued anyway, “Another party interested in the software emerged but I still needed the information Bosley had. When he told me you were his top agent I figured he'd trade anything to get you back.”

You could feel the rage radiating off of Hodak in waves even as your own stomach clenched. Every part of you resented the idea of being used as some kind of bargaining chip, especially against Bosley.

“Congratulations Mr. Dubois, I didn’t think you could prove to be more of an idiot and coward than I’d already thought but here we are. You clearly don’t know Bosley. Even if you’d been successful, he would have rained hell upon you before giving you what you wanted. As it is, he might still want to after all this nonsense.” You paused and considered, trying to be more forward-thinking for this new enterprise, “Lucky for you, I'm feeling generous. If you tell us where your end of the deal is I’ll let you and whoever still can walk out of here.”

A vein in Hodak’s neck indicated he was feeling decidedly less generous but he didn’t contradict you, backing your play. Dubois, however, didn’t seem to appreciate your magnanimity and remained stubbornly silent, glaring at you as if he could win some sort of award for stupidity. You could see in his eyes that watching you defeat a veritable squad of men had done nothing to show him the error of his ways. He seemed to think he still had something to gain as if even after trying to kill Hodak and use you as a hostage, he thought he could continue on his merry way unscathed. As if he could renege on business dealings and still get his prize. He’d learned nothing from this and would likely try to enact some kind of revenge for you foiling his plan at some later date.

You looked to Hodak, unsure what options such bullheaded stupidity left you with. When Hodak met your gaze, you saw no such indecision in him. Hodak knew exactly what should be done and you could see what he had planned and in that moment, you couldn’t find any will within you to stop him. Dubois was never going to forgive you for embarrassing him. He would not let this stand. He would come for you eventually and he’d try to hurt you and the family you were making with Hodak and Bosley,. Maybe with enough time, money, and determination, he might even succeed. 

Hodak looked to you and waited, waited for you to say anything, waited for you to make a different call, and stay his hand. You didn’t.

Instead, you looked to Dubois and said, “Last chance.”

Dubois just spat at your feet. You looked at the gross display, at the proud hate on his face, and then looked to Hodak. Hodak nodded and you looked away. 

A shot rang out and Dubois crumpled to the ground. You allowed yourself one moment to breathe and to acknowledge the gravity of everything that had happened. Then you took a steadying breath and looked out to the group of men you and Hodak had just taken out. Many remained knocked out but a few were still conscious just in a great deal of pain.

“Who’s the second-in-command?” you called out, proud at how unemotional your voice sounded considering everything that had happened.

At first, no one answered and you worried you’d have to go about this the hard way but before your patience ran out- the man whose arm you had just broken- sat up and found his awkward way to his feet. Even as he winced briefly, cradling his arm, he still found a way to his feet and stood a short distance away. 

“I am,” He said and you found you respected his composure.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Gerard.”

You took a step closer to better size him up, careful to keep your stance non-threatening. You recognized him as the one who’d tried to speak up earlier as well as the one who’d hesitated in attacking you. He had a broad face and dark skin as well as a certain kind of intelligence in his eyes. You didn’t see any of the hate or contempt you had seen in Dubois, just resignation.

“Congratulations on your promotion, Gerard,” you said levelly. “I trust we won’t have any trouble coming to an arrangement.”

Gerard didn’t balk and you could tell he had grasped how things stood between you. You didn’t want to have to kill anyone and, your earlier fight with Gerard aside, you had no direct animosity against the man, especially if he could be reasoned with.

Gerard shifted the position of his arm as best he could and then looked to Dubois’s body ruefully.

“I’d told him he was a fool to try this,” he sighed before pointing with his good arm, “you’ll find what you’re after in his left breast pocket.”

You looked to Hodak who raised a questioning eyebrow. It amused and intrigued you that even though he’d resumed his silence in the presence of others, you could still perfectly understand him. You nodded. Keeping his gun pointed at Gerard, Hodak crouched down briefly and retrieved what looked like a bulkier USB drive before standing to hand it to you.

It certainly looked capable of being what you needed but there was only so much you could verify without a computer. You regarded Gerard carefully before finally saying, “If this isn’t what we were promised, we will find you.”

You left it at that because Bosley had always taught you that the most effective threats were left to the imagination. Let Gerard concoct his own worst-case scenarios.

“I have no doubt you would but it’s all there. I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistakes Dubois did,” he said clearly.

“I should hope not,” you said with the slightest of smirks. Yes, Gerard would make for a more level-headed ally than Dubois ever could have been. He appeared to have enough sense not to take you breaking his arm personally and didn’t seem fond enough of Dubois for you to worry about a revenge spree for his death. “I don’t see any reason why we can’t come to a fruitful partnership now that all this unpleasantness is over.”

Gerard straightened and, seeing the flash of emotions cross his face, you realized that he hadn’t been sure he’d be walking out of here. Good. While the steps you were forced to take were unpleasant, there were certain advantages to the perception of sparing someone’s life. With the memory of this night and your generosity with his life, he was likely to be more compliant and much less willing to risk crossing you in the future. There were some who would take that as a challenge, and Dubois was definitely one of them but Gerard was not cut from the same foolhardy cloth.

“You know how to contact us in case you come across anything else we might find useful?” you asked.

“I do,” he answered.

“Good,” you looked again at the prone men around the warehouse, “I trust we don’t have to worry about reprisals from your men.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t,” he said before motioning with his head around the area, “I’ll also clean up Dubois’ mess.”

“Very well,” you said then tapped the USB drive, tucking the device into your pocket. “We’ll be in touch if we have any problems.”

With that, you then turned around and strode confidently to the exit, trusting Hodak to act if anyone got any dumb ideas about your back being turned. As you walked, you worked hard to keep your breathing normal, to keep up the calm and cool exterior that you needed these men to see, to not let your frayed nerves show. This was not a place where you could afford to show weakness. That could keep until this evening when you were safe at your luxurious apartment.

Walking out of the warehouse you took a step to the side and paused just beside the door, leaning against the wall with your eyes closed. A minute later you felt a familiar presence beside you and a hand on your arm. You opened your eyes to see Hodak looking at you with concern. He knew you couldn’t get into how you were feeling now but, if nothing else, you were comforted by his concern for you. You weren’t alone in any of this and, as he had proved several times already, he’d be damned if he let anyone hurt you.

What happened with Dubois, letting Hodak kill him that is, was all a first for you. And a brutal one at that. You just had to remind yourself that Dubois had struck first and would not have shown you any mercy if your roles were reversed. Now you could be certain that he would never hurt you or Hodak ever again. 

It was also no small thing that you and Hodak had just faced what would have very nearly been overwhelming odds and you’d not only survived but come out on top with the tech you needed and a potential new partnership to boot. It made you feel like you might actually be able to pull this off. That you hadn’t been crazy when you put all your eggs in this basket and quit the Townsend Agency.

You stepped off the wall, taking strength in the assurance of Hodak beside you once more. You’d unpack everything that had happened later but for now you were going to enjoy being with Hodak and having the rest of the night at least to do so. Lest you get so wrapped up in that enjoyment and forget, you pulled out your phone and sent Bosley a quick text.

_You: It was an ambush as we had predicted but we’re fine and I’ve got the tech._

_Bosley: I’m glad you’re safe. What of Dubois?_

_You: He won’t be causing anyone any more problems._

_Bosley: Glad to hear it. We’ll catch up and debrief later. Feel free to take the next couple of days off. You’ve more than earned it._

_You: Thanks Bos!_

You put the phone away and turned to Hodak once more, a smile on your face.

“What do you say we go back to my place and ravish each other properly?” you asked playfully as you held your hand out to him. You enjoyed the fact that you could cut right to the chase. Unlike with others you had dated, you didn’t have to play coy with Hodak. He would never be turned off by bold advances or you speaking your mind.

Hodak was not an effusive or extremely emotive man but there was a warmth in his eyes that sparked something in you when he took your hand. He motioned in the direction of where your car was parked. 

“Lead the way,” he said simply. The way he said it and the way he gripped your hand securely and confidently, told you what you already knew- that he would follow you anywhere.

It had been one roller-coaster of an evening with the most exquisite highs and nerve-wracking lows. But thinking of the ecstasy Hodak had shown you at the opera and the debauchery that was no doubt to come by the time the night was over, you couldn’t regret it. Perhaps by the standards of the Angels, you’d fallen from grace, but, with Hodak by your side, it felt an awful lot like flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably sounds like it could be the end of this fic but it’s not! I just thought it would be nice to not end on a cliffhanger for once. I still have more I want to explore with these characters and (of course) Hodak in particular. I have dreams of one day not being the only person writing for Hodak but in the meantime, I'm going to get what amusement I can out of this being one of the longest Charlie's Angels 2019 fics on here. And I will take that for whatever it may be worth.  
> Thank you again for reading and I hope it was worth the wait!

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone ever wants to see my updates or progress on this fic or generally talk or flail about Hodak with someone, you can find me at hodakcangetit on tumblr.
> 
> As of February 2021, chapter 6 is still in progress!


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